


Light Yagami and the Second Wizarding War

by Smritz



Series: The Boy Who Lived And Picked Up A Notebook [1]
Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst and Romance, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Eventual L/Yagami Light, Fluff and Angst, Horcrux Hunting, L and Light are in love and L knows it, Light confessed and L forgave him, M/M, One-Sided Amane Misa/Yagami Light, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Resistance, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Second War with Voldemort, The Death Note is a good thing for once, light is kira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-03-31 07:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 120,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13970538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smritz/pseuds/Smritz
Summary: All Light Yagami had planned to do was check out the desolation of the Shinigami realm Ryuk kept going on about. Little did he know that he was about to get trapped in a magical world where a Dark Lord was rising and the Death Note was a magical object of unmatched power. With L along for the ride, Light had to make sure that they survive this war, no matter the costs.





	1. The Cruciatus Curse

"Raito-kun, let's try calling Ryuk again."

L was pissed.  _Really_ pissed. It had been three days since his last piece of cake, so he was probably going through sugar withdrawal on top of everything. Light noted his deepening scowl with some amusement.  _So that emotionless mask was just a façade after all_. Light had always known that, but it was nice to get some confirmation of it.

"Look, L, it's not my fault we're stuck here, alright? I didn't ask Ryuk to open a portal into nowhere."

L glared at him. "Well, you're the one who asked him to show you the Shinigami realm in the first place!"

"You didn't have to come too! I never asked you to."

The detective pouted, and Light was sure it was the most unnervingly adorable thing he had ever seen. Quietly, L pushed his fringe out of his eyes.

"I was…curious."

Light scoffed. "Yeah, right. You're not fooling me, L, you came along to keep an eye on me. Well, this is what you get. Go on, keep your eyes on me, but don't complain about it."

L sulked, trotting along to keep up with Light's easy strides. They had been wandering through the forest for three days. "Raito-kun, eventually the food in your pack is going to run out."

The teenager gave him a heated look. "Honestly, L, if you don't stop complaining, I'm going to ditch you. Then you'll be sorry for forcing yourself on my adventure in the first place!"

"I'm already sorry." L muttered.

"Well, good! You deserve it."

They walked in silence for a bit, and Light was sure L was in the foulest mood he could possibly be in. So he was in for a surprise when L finally opened his mouth again and his tone was soft, wistful.

"Raito-kun…you know I would never have let you go alone."

The younger man blinked at him. L's cheeks were flushed, and he was avoiding eye contact. Light looked away, but a huge smile grew on his face. "Yeah, well, if I had to be here with anybody, at least it isn't Misa."

L glanced doubtfully at him, but a few seconds later, Light found a soft pale hand in his.

He was just about to say something, giving the hand a squeeze, when they heard an ear-splitting shriek coming from their left. Without actually thinking about it, Light pulled the butcher's knife (the go-to weapon he had grabbed before they left with Ryuk) from his belt and instinctively shoved L behind him.

"Light, we have to get to higher ground, it could be a wild animal, we don't even know what region we are in. Come on-" L's frantic tirade was interrupted by that same scream, but much worse this time, unending and stretched thin with pain.

"L, we should check it out." Light whispered urgently, tightening his hold on L's hand and surging forward. L didn't resist, quickly catching up with him as they weaved through the trees, getting closer and closer to the source of the scream that had devolved into choked sobs.

They finally came upon three teenagers standing around a tree, another, heavier teen pressed against the tree trunk, writhing in pain. One of the people surrounding him, a reedy boy in a green robe, raised a slender stick in the air, the end of it glowing crimson. The boy in the middle responded by letting out a quiet, shuddering wail, collapsing to his knees.

Light slipped off his pack, shoving it into L's hands. "L, careful with this. I hid the Death Note in the third flap. Keep it safe, I'm going to help him."

L snarled, shoving it back. "What makes you think I'm going to let you walk into what looks like a cult ritual with a butcher's knife, Light?"

"I'm not going to kill them, L, I'm going to save him!" He hissed, exasperated.

L grabbed Light's sleeve, pulling him back. "I'm not afraid  _you'll_  kill  _them_ , you idiot! We're alone in the middle of the woods, don't you dare-"

"Who the bloody hell is spying on us?"

It was a thick British accent. Light pulled his sleeve from L's grip and gave him a withering look before stepping into the line of sight of the bullies.

He cocked his head as the green-robed cultists regarded him, giving them his most smug, charming smile. "I've called the police. You assholes better get the fuck out of here, leave him alone." Light squeezed the handle of his knife, knowing all too well how slippery it was in his grip.

The bullies' eyes boggled. "That's a muggle!" Slowly, huge grins grew on their faces.

Light narrowed his eyes, letting the blade of his knife flash in the meagre light. "Look, just back off. The police are-"

" _Crucio!"_

Light's mind grew entirely blank. There was a buzzing in his fingertips, and every nerve in his body was aflame. He couldn't see, he couldn't think about seeing. His ears were roaring with blood, blocking out anything he could have heard…blood, he should have been bleeding or crushed and mangled by a boulder or burning to death in a wildfire. Nothing else could possibly explain the pain. All he could see was a faded, glowing red under his eyelids, his every nerve screaming at him, white-hot, just  _screaming_.

And then his cheek was pressed against the damp grass. The cool air chilled the sweat over his body and his nose was filled with the sweet, warm smell that reminded him of cake, cookies and mind games played while cuddling in bed. It was more comforting than he could possibly say out loud.

His hearing started to work again, and he could hear L shouting at the top of his lungs (he had never heard L shout at anyone but himself or Matsuda before). " _Bastards!_  Yeah, run, you fucking cowards! Get the fuck out of here!" L's arms suddenly enveloped him, and Light realised he had forgotten to open his eyes. He blinked up at L, who was holding him tightly to his chest.

"Raito-kun, are you alright?"

The fog in Light's brain began to recede as he sank into those huge black eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He managed to croak, his throat felt sore and papery, as though he had either been screaming or crying. "I don't actually know what happened."

L's hand supported the back of his head, rustling his auburn hair. "They ran off. After they shocked you with whatever weapon that was, I hit one of them with a rock. They tried to shock me, but the backpack deflected it. I threw another rock, and they ran away."

Light, unexpectedly, grinned. "I've never seen you that angry. Not even when I confessed to being Kira."

L smiled, loosening his grip on Light and running his fingers through the boy's sweat-dampened fringe. "Obviously, Raito-kun-"

"No ordinary backpack would deflect an Unforgivable Curse." The kid they had both forgotten about, the one who had started this whole mess, was getting to his feet. He walked up to L with a slight limp and stuck his hand out in front of the detective's nose.

"Neville Longbottom."

L considered the hand, but opted to keep both of his around Light. "Ryuuzaki."

The large boy, who looked pale and malnourished in the evening light, wrinkled his nose. "Ree-yoo-what?"

Light chucked weakly. "His name, it's Ryuuzaki."

"Ryuuzaki, alright. And you?"

"Light Yagami." Light cleared his throat.

"Right, so you're Japanese, then. Have you…have you come to help?"

Light shrugged. "Well, you were screaming…"

"No, not with that. Thanks for that, though. I meant…with the War. With the Order."

L groaned. "Of course we had to end up in the middle of a war. Raito-kun, we have to call Ryuk!"

"Calling him doesn't  _work_ , Ryuuzaki! He doesn't answer!"

Neville blinked. "Ryuk? Is he another Japanese wizard?"

L gaped at the taller boy. "Wizard?"

"…yes. Wizard."

"Wizards  _exist_  here?"

Neville stared at the two men in front of him. "Are you two muggles or what? How on Earth would two muggles have deflected a Cruciatus curse?"

Light stared at him, then dived for his backpack, wrenching it from L. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He rustled through it desperately, hoping against hope that whatever L had deflected with it hadn't done anything…until his fingers closed around the spine of the Death Note and he let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God."

Neville peered curiously at him. "Are you carrying a magical object?"

Light shook his head, snapping his backpack shut and pulling it on. "No, it's just that all of my stuff is in here. Didn't want anything getting damaged. Mr. Longbottom, was it? Do you know where the nearest place to stay is?"

Neville frowned, glancing to his left. Light followed the line of his gaze, and his mouth dropped open.

"Is that...a castle?!"


	2. Hagrid's Hut

“Look, I’ve got to be frank with you. Hogwarts, it’s not the safest place lately. In fact, it’s probably the opposite of safe, with all the bullshit that’s been going on.”

L was only half paying attention to the pudgy boy in the red robes as he skulked on past a couple of pathways through the forest, the shadows of dusk catching up with them, creating ghosts and monsters between the trees. But then, L didn’t particularly care about that either.

What L really was preoccupied with was the scream that those green-robed boys had forced out of Light Yagami. L had never heard Light scream before. Shout, yes. Yell at him, most definitely. And, of course, he had heard him cry out when he touched the Death Note to regain his memories.

But that raw, painful scream back there, as if they were ripping out his fingers with pliers, as though they were _torturing_ him, L squeezed the hand in his tightly, digging his nails into the boy’s soft palm. He never wanted to hear that again, the agony in his voice, the crackle as his breath failed him and he fell boneless to the ground, _how dare they?_

“Ouch, L. Let go.” Light pulled his hand from L’s, running the pads of his fingers along the side of his palm, staring at the beads of blood he wiped away. “What the fuck was that for?”

L shook his head, his jaw set, refusing to meet the younger man’s eyes. This was all because of Light-kun anyway, this whole idiotic trip. As if their lives back home hadn’t been complicated enough. They had just settled down after framing Higuchi as the original Kira and having him convicted posthumously. L thought they deserved a _break_ , with all the hassle Light had put him through after his confession. Not that L was regretful that Light confessed; after all, if the boy hadn’t, L was sure he would be dead. L would be dead, and then his successors would have executed Light in retribution.

It was the best possible outcome, yes, but even the greatest outcome for Kira, L’s first and best friend, was taxing. So, no, he wasn’t happy Light had chosen right then to use his overabundant teen energy to go on a trip to the fucking Shinigami realm with Ryuk (who, now, they were sure they would never see again. He had promised to turn up when they used the code word ‘apples’ three times in a row. Maybe he was watching them right now and cackling at their gullibility).

“So, yeah, Death Eaters and Slytherins roaming the hallways, hexing anyone they can see, I guess the safest place for you is Hagrid’s cottage. It’s not occupied by anyone, since the prissy tart who teaches Care for Magical Creatures is too special to live in a cottage last occupied by a half-giant.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Light held up a hand, bringing L’s attention back to the conversation. “Death Eaters? Do you mean Death Gods? Shinigami?” His voice was so hopeful that L felt like slapping him hard.

Neville stared blankly at him. “Um. No. I don’t think so. They’re definitely not Gods. I don’t know what a Shinigami is, but I’m pretty sure they’re not that either. They’re pureblood elitists who want to kill all muggles and support You-Know-Who.”

L crossed his arms. “No, we don’t know who, in case you haven’t realised. We don’t know very much about the rules of your wizardly world. We would very much appreciate it if you could explain just who your mysterious man is.”

Light elbowed him. “L, come on. Don’t be crabby.”

_“Crabby?_ Raito-kun, it has been nearly four days in the forest with no sugar-”

“We are not doing this now.” Light turned away, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Longbottom. Please, go on. We will be staying in a cottage for the night?”

Neville nodded, shaking his crimson robes as he continued to walk down the winding path, the branches of the trees tugging at their clothes. L noticed Light snap off a branch before it got tangled in his perfect hair and felt almost resentful. The branches were probably stuck so far in L’s bushy mess that they would stay there until Watari (or Light, ever since the confession) fixed it for him. “Yes. I can signal the Order by the morning and have them come get you. It’s not safe here for muggle-borns…or muggles, whichever you are. Not that muggles can see Hogwarts or be able to stand after a Cruciatus curse but yeah.”

Light nodded, smiling, but it was a tense smile. “I’m sorry, but could you please explain what this Order is?”

Neville scanned their surroundings quickly. “Bloody hell, I should not be speaking so loudly, should I?” He giggled tentatively. “Well, the Order of the Phoenix, it’s the only line of resistance between us and You-Know-Who. The Dark Lord.”

L let out a mirthless chuckle. “Dark Lord. It sounds like the kind of title you would choose for yourself, Raito-kun. God of the New World. _Dark Lord_ of the New World.”

Light took a deep breath, gripped the bridge of his nose, then swung hard at the detective, hitting L in the shoulder and toppling him to the ground. “Ryuu _zaki_ , shut the fuck up and let Mr. Longbottom do the talking.”

L snarled, drawing his leg back and kicking Light in the stomach, knocking the air out of him but unfortunately not tipping him onto the ground, probably because he was prepared for it.

Neville stared at them, open-mouthed. “What…?”

Light clutched at his stomach, glaring furiously at L but refusing to lose his cool. “Sorry…for the…interruption, Mr. Longbottom. Ryuuzaki…gets excited, sometimes. Who is the Dark Lord, and why is he after the muggles?”

“Please don’t call him that. Call him You-Know-Who. The Dark Lord is what the Death Eaters call him. He’s an egomaniac who thinks muggles, non-magical folk, are less than magical folk, so he wants to oppress them. His philosophy applies to the wizards born from non-magical folk too, outside the Wizarding community, like you two.”

L rolled his eyes. “So I have another Dark Lord against me, then. Just great. I wonder if he’ll confess if I chain myself to him for months and fall so deeply in love with him that he wouldn’t be human if he didn’t feel at least a little bit remorseful for his actions.”

Light gaped at him, and it struck L what he had just said. He immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. His sugar-low was making him delirious. There was nothing he could say to fix that, absolutely nothing.

L smiled sheepishly, ducking his head so that he didn’t have to meet the younger man’s eyes. “Just kidding…?”

Neville was speechless at this point. “I…I am not sure…I don’t understand what you’re on about, but I certainly don’t think you’re Death Eaters or their supporters, so I’ll still call in the Order. You are either wizards or some sort of half-breeds, so. Yeah. This is Hagrid’s cottage. There’s food and water in there, and a bed. Don’t answer the door unless they let a patronus in to alert you first.” He noticed L’s incensed look and sighed. “A patronus is…a silver animal. It’s a spell you use to drive dementors away. Oh, screw it, don’t ask me. Just open the door if a silver animal ghost appears in front of it first and tells you it’s from the Order.”

Light nodded. “Right. Thank you, Neville Longbottom. We trust you, I hope the trust isn’t unfounded.”

Neville took a minute to comprehend that, then shook his head vehemently. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t betray you, you saved my life, and anyway, you’re muggle-borns. We of the resistance stick together.” He said, smiling weakly. Light gave him a warmer smile, bowing slightly before remembering that they weren’t in Japan. He redirected the movement to open the huge wooden cabin door, revealing a single dark, musty room. Neville took the moment to whisper a couple of Latin words, and the giant oil lamps hanging around the cabin lit up in merry orange light. Light and L stared at the newly born flames, then at the slender stick in Neville’s hand. 

He grinned. “Yeah, magic. Wands. I guess they don’t have wands where you come from. Will you be able to manage a night? I promise I’ll have the Order pick you up first thing in the morning.”

Light shrugged. “We’ll be fine. Thank you for the trouble, Mr. Longbottom.”

“Really, it’s nothing. We do all we can for the muggle-borns. And it’s Neville, please.”

Light smiled, holding out his hand and having it shaken firmly by the wizard. “Neville, then.”

L tapped his foot impatiently.


	3. Hagrid's Hut (Part 2)

L had never had the time for pleasantries, and he wasn’t about to start now. The detective marched into the cosy little cottage, quickly noting every detail of the place. It looked fairly innocent (not that traps ever looked like traps), if a little dusty and neglected. L quickly deduced which cupboard was most likely the pantry, wrenching it open.

He squealed like a little girl.

Light was noisy, his footsteps loud against the hardwood floor as he bounded inside, his amber eyes first wide in panic, then narrowing dangerously as he took in the situation. Behind him, the cautious Neville Longbottom peeked at them, a wary look on his face.

“Does that taste okay?” The pudgy wizard asked worriedly.

L was crouched on the ground, curled up around a jar of honey, dipping his paw into it and licking it clean like a bear with a honeycomb. He gave the wizard a toothy grin, the syrup dripping down his chin. “It’s sweet!”

Neville nodded, still looking anxious. “Listen…this was Hagrid’s place. Don’t…don’t go around eating just about anything, alright? Check whether it moves and stuff. Some of the food was for the creatures he used to raise.”

Light crossed his arms. “I apologise on his behalf. Really, he is out of line.” The look he gave the World’s Greatest Detective was sharp enough to cut through steel.

“No, no, that’s fine.” Mr. Longbottom fretted. “Damn, look at the time. It’s nearly dark. I need to get back to the castle now or the Death Eaters will catch me and assume I’m meeting with the Order. I’ll see you whenever I can.” The wizard waved his hand hurriedly, his robes fluttering as he scurried off, leaving the two men alone in their magically lit cottage.

Light found the nearest fluffy armchair, a red-and-pink monstrosity, and collapsed into it with a huff. L slurped up another handful of honey, feeling his brain start to whir back to life. Four days of withdrawal, he had never gone through that long a dry period in his entire life. His brain was beginning to pick up the pieces, tie up the loose ends. Slowly, he started to get a picture of what they had gotten into.

“So, here’s what we know.” Light drawled before L could say literally the same statement. “We appear to be somewhere in the United Kingdom, judging by their accents and the trees in the forest. The people here have magical powers that may not be limited to turning on the lights. I’m pretty sure this is not the Shinigami realm.”

L coated his lips in sticky-sweet syrup, and it struck him that the honey was the exact same colour as Light’s eyes. “You forgot that they appear to be fighting a war, and that they use their magic to torture people. Also, we are going to be picked up by a rebel group in the morning.”

Light shrugged, rubbing his eyes. “Look, I think Longbottom can be trusted. He seems well-meaning and a little stupid, he doesn’t seem the type to trick two people who saved his life. Anyway, we can’t walk through the woods any longer, and we have the Death Note. It can repel their torture magic, according to your story, so we can use it to protect ourselves.” Light yawned. “I’ll…work on that. Could you clean up, L? You look disgusting.”

L pouted, licking off the last of the sticky nectar clinging to his fingers. He stood up, placing the half-empty jar back on its shelf. “Raito-kun, you are polite to everyone but me.”

“You’ll remember I tried being polite with you in the beginning.”

“That was because you were trying to manipulate me into thinking that you’re not Kira!”

The teenager smirked. “And it didn’t work, did it? Politeness just doesn’t work with you.” He yawned again, snuggling deeper into the plush, furry sofa. “I think…I think I’ll take a nap right here. Wake me in ten minutes, L. Wash up.” Light curled up in the chair, tucking his legs under his chin, catlike. He rested his face on the armrest, his breathing slowing imperceptibly.

L went over to the corner of the room, where he had spotted a jug of water he could pour over his hand to clean it. Wiping it on his no-longer-white sweatshirt, he strolled back to the main room to stare at Light until he was sure the boy was asleep.

He walked up to him, crouching on the floor beside his chair, ruffling his soft brown hair fondly. He traced a line down from his high cheekbones to his pale-pink lips. He enjoyed looking at his Raito-kun almost as much as he enjoyed arguing with him, talking with him or even just living with him. It was no wonder why he had saved his main Kira suspect from his grim fate, he was hopelessly besotted.

Still smiling faintly, L tiptoed over to the boy’s backpack, which had been placed carefully behind the sofa, hidden from view. He pulled the slim black notebook from the third flap, running his hand over the smooth paperback cover, the scratchy white letters scrawled on it. “Death Note.” He flipped the book open, counting as he thumbed through the pages. Fifty-seven pages were covered in Light’s neat, delicate lettering, divided in orderly rows and columns. Twenty pages were slathered with Higuchi’s massive scrawl, no order in sight. L sighed, skipping back to the beginning, where the rules were written in Ryuk’s white, inconsistent hand.

L scanned each rule, trying to find a single one that signals the existence of magic or how the Death Note could possibly repel said magic, but there was nothing there. Magical object, Neville had said. The Death Note was definitely a magical object, killing notebooks weren’t normal by any standards. What kind of a world was this, where people could perform the strangest acts by pointing a piece of wood? L presumed that if _this_ had been the Shinigami realm, Ryuk would have never had a chance to get bored.

He glanced out of the tiny window at the ensuing night-time, going over to bolt the door shut and make sure the room was secure. Ten minutes certainly must have passed by this time, but he didn’t want to wake Raito-kun when he looked so peaceful in that chair, his face relaxed, that small upward tilt to his lips reminding L just how badly he wanted to grab them in his mouth, to let Light know just how deep his feelings went.

Instead, he reminisced on what exactly had occurred when he had jumped in to save Light from his attackers back in the forest. They had shot Light with a brilliant flash of red, and the boy had gone down screaming (L gritted his teeth at the memory; those green-robed assholes didn’t know what was coming for them, nobody messed with the greatest detective in the world unscathed, just ask Deneuve and Eraldo Coil). When L jumped in the way of their magic, throwing as many rocks as he could find, they had shot him with the same red light several times, not just once, and had hit several parts of his body, not just the backpack.

The Death Note was the only thing that could possibly have protected him. The only solution that could be deduced from that was that the Death Note wasn’t used as a shield, but rather as a force-field.

L reached into the covers and ripped out two pages from the notebook, closing it firmly and slipping it back into Light’s backpack, hidden under the bags of chips, clothes and bottles of water the teenager had brought along like a child on a camping trip. Under all that maturity, intelligence and pretence, that was what Light was: an innocent, idealistic child. L grinned. The boy would break L’s nose if he ever said that aloud.

He tore both pages in half, one for the torso and the other for the legs. If L’s theory was right, and he was never wrong, the Death Note would work even in pieces (after all, it performed its natural function pretty easily with no reduction in efficiency when in bits and pieces). All he had to do was find some way to stick this onto their bodies.

L grimaced. He supposed he had to wake Light eventually. Now would be a good time as any. “Raito-kun, it has been ten minutes, wake up.”

The teenager covered his face with his hands. “Ugh, L, no.”

“What do you mean, no, Light?” L grinned as a memory flashed in his head. “Are you attempting to delay the Kira Investigation by being a lazy lump?”

Light reached under himself to throw a knit cushion at L’s head. “Do not start that, goddamn it.” He started laughing in spite of himself. “I do not want to be transported back to that time, thank you very much.”

L cocked his head, vaguely insulted. “Why ever not? Is being handcuffed to me really that unpleasant?”

Light gave him a withering look, swinging his legs off the couch and stretching his arms above his head. “It’s not really the handcuffs that bothered me. You accusing me of being Kira when I had no idea that I actually _was_ Kira, _that_ was unpleasant.” He sat up straight, looking around the room. “Did you find anything to eat, or a place to take a bath? I haven’t been this dirty in my entire life.”

L looked Light up and down, realising that yes, despite all of the teenager’s efforts, he did look quite grubby. He supposed four days in the forest would do that to a person. “I noticed a jug of water that keeps refilling by itself in the corner there.”

Light glanced in the direction he pointed and noted the lack of running water or tap, a smirk twisting on his lips. “I guess after Kira and the Shinigami, I really shouldn’t be surprised.” He picked up the jug in question, which was already filled to the brim again. “I don’t suppose you happened to see any soap. Or a bathroom.”

L shook his head. “Neither. I guess Hagrid, whoever he was, did his business in the woods.”

Light tipped back his head and laughed. “Of course he did. Well, I’m not going to bathe outside.”

“You’ll make the floor slippery.” L wrinkled his nose as he made his way back to the pantry, rummaging through Hagrid’s food (Neville was right, most of this was definitely for some sort of animal) until he found something that looked edible: a pack of old gingerbread cookies.

“Not if I stay near these loose boards. Don’t look.”

L cracked a smile. The demand was reminiscent of when they were handcuffed together, that confusion as they stood in front of the shower wondering what to do. He bit into the first cookie, turning away from the younger man, the tang of gingerbread exploding on his tongue. “It’s not like there’s anything I haven’t seen before, Raito-kun.”

“You only saw anything because you illegally bugged my house, you pervert.” L could hear Light shrugging off his clothes and folding them neatly over the armchair. “I’d really rather not have you ogling me in front of me.” Water was poured in a steady stream, pattering at the boy’s feet, escaping through the floorboards. L munched through another gingerbread cookie without thinking about it.

“Pervert, Raito-kun? Borrowing Amane Misa’s nicknames, now, are you?”

The boy laughed, and more water poured endlessly. L bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as another cookie disappeared. Finally, finally, he heard a towel snap. “Even she can be right some of the time.”

There was a pause as Light put on his change of clothes. “So, L, did you mess with the Death Note yet?”

L raised an eyebrow. “Perceptive of you, Raito-kun. Did you bug the Note or something?”

“No, I just know you. What did you discover?” The boy walked over to where L was facing, wearing a long-sleeved red shirt and dark jeans.

L passed him the pieces of paper he had torn out. “We have to stick one near our necks, another near our abdomen since I am not sure of the exact range of the Note’s force field. All of my attacker’s spells were aimed around my head and torso, so I didn’t get a chance to experiment.”

Light nodded. “Yes, I’d deduced the same thing. Luckily for us, I’m always prepared.” Light rummaged in his pack until he pulled out a roll of tape.

L stared at him, wide-eyed. “Why would you bring tape? We were going to the Shinigami realm, not arts-and-crafts class.”

Light grinned, embarrassed. “It was on my desk while I was prepping supplies, it didn’t hurt to just stick it in. A bunch of stuff in here is just there because it was on my desk.”

L suppressed a giggle. That played in so well with his Light-Is-Secretly-Ten-Years-Old theory that it was almost scary.

“Alright, Raito-kun, tape me up.”

Outside, a few miles away, unnoticed by either of the preoccupied men in Hagrid’s cabin, the castle lit up in soft green light.


	4. Professor McGonagall

Professor McGonagall was getting sick and tired of cleaning up after other people’s messes.

She had dealt with something similar two years ago, back when Umbridge had been the headmistress, but back then it hadn’t been a matter of life and death. Why couldn’t people just act sensible? There was a time and place for rebellion, and second period Defence Against The Dark Arts (or rather, just Dark Arts) was not it. The Gryffindor students were making her life hell. How was she supposed to protect them with Snape as headmaster and the Carrows running discipline with their Unforgivable Spells and No-Tolerance Policies?

The severe old woman walked stiffly down the hallways, her hands folded in front of her, grey hair tied back in a tight bun. She protected everybody she could, but with this much dissention, students were getting hurt, tortured and humiliated in front of the rest of the school every day. Death-Eaters-in training ran rampage, hexing first-years and forcing them to clean up after their messes.

Professor McGonagall was filled with so much righteous anger, but she couldn’t use any of it, not if she wanted to be helpful to the Order. The only way she could help them was if she stayed in Hogwarts and functioned as their paper shield.

She sighed. At least the students would all be in bed at this time. The curfews were much stricter nowadays, Filch was having the time of his life (not that he would be having it for long; did he really think Voldemort took kindly to Squibs?). Her steps clacked loudly as she walked back to her office.

She took in a sharp breath. Her door was ajar. The Carrows were sniffling through her things again, as if she would hide anything incriminating somewhere that obvious. She pulled her wand from her robe, brandishing it as she would the Sword of Gryffindor, if it ever deigned to appear in front of her.

With a flourish, she threw the door of her office open, her back straight as a rod, her chin raised high. “Exit my office _immediately!”_ She bellowed, raising her wand.

Neville shot up from his seat, looking profoundly unnerved. His pale face was drenched in sweat, his brown eyes bloodshot and sunken. He trembled in his red wool robes (Hogwarts had recently created a rule wherein each member of the school was forced to only wear robes of their house’s colours, another attempt to give the Slytherins power over the others) and wrung his hands in front of him. McGonagall relaxed, looking around and shutting the door as she cast a few _Muffliato’s_ over her already secured office walls.

“What is it, Mr. Longbottom? You look tired. Have you been sleeping well?” She eyed him carefully as she went to take her seat at her desk. “Have the Slytherins been bullying you again?”

Neville, to her astonishment, rolled his eyes. “Never mind that, Professor. They bully me every day, but it’s worth it to see their faces when they lose to Dumbledore’s Army.”

McGonagall shushed him. “Mr. Longbottom! There is no verbal talk of rebellion within the grounds of Hogwarts, is that clear?”

The boy nodded soberly. “Y-Yes, Professor. What I came here to say was…I have discovered something in the woods.”

The old woman shuffled through the papers on her desk: test papers that needed grading. “What were you doing in the woods past curfew, Mr. Longbottom? Do you realise how dangerous that is for a Gryffindor to be doing?”

“Never _mind_ that, Professor! Please, this is important.”

McGonagall regarded him through her spectacles. “You found something important in the woods?”

“Some _one_. Two someone’s, actually. Muggle-borns, I think, because they don’t seem to have any idea about the Wizarding world or the fact that we’re at war. They said they were Japanese, and they were just wandering aimlessly in the woods…I put them up at Hagrid’s hut because I didn’t know where else to go.”

The professor tapped her fingers on her desk, pensive. “They don’t know that there is a war happening, is it? How sure are you that this is not a trap, Mr. Longbottom?”

Neville shook his head. “It’s not a trap, Professor. They don’t seem like Death Eaters at all, and I checked if they were under the Imperius curse. They went on tangents, they didn’t wait for instructions or anything. They seem quite eccentric, in fact. And…they tried to save me from the Slytherins. One of them, Light, pulled a knife on them and tried to threaten them into leaving me alone.”

McGonagall pushed her glasses up her nose. “A knife? Are you certain you didn’t pick up two muggles?”

Neville groaned, exasperated. “They weren’t muggles! The second one, I forget his name, he saved Light and me from the Cruciatus curses by deflecting them. He deflected an Unforgivable Curse, Professor, he can’t possibly be a muggle. And they could both see Hogwarts. Muggles can’t do that, can they?”

“No, they cannot. Neville, I am glad you found them before the Carrows did. I shall send Lupin to deal with them immediately.”

“Lupin?” Neville frowned. “Why would you send Lupin? It isn’t that serious. And immediately? I told them the Order would see to them in the morning.”

The severe woman stood up suddenly, startling the boy in front of her. “You told them about the Order? Neville Longbottom, have you _lost your mind?”_

Neville shook his head, eyes wide. “But, Professor-”

“Do you realise how much danger we would be in if they are spies? We could be killed, Mr. Longbottom, or _worse!_ The Order could be found out and exterminated! You cannot go spilling our secrets to anybody without taking permission, especially since you are the leader of your little Dumbledore’s Army here. They will be keeping a close eye on you, Mr. Longbottom, remember that!”

Neville nodded fervently, going pale. “Yes, Professor, but-”

“I will send Lupin to catch them immediately. In the meantime, get back to your bed. If you are discovered out after curfew-”

She was interrupted by a hard knock on her door. McGonagall exchanged a look with the young Gryffindor, telling him to stay put and not act suspicious. She marched up to the door, taking her time to open it to reveal an impatient and grubby Argus Filch.

“Professor McGonagall, Headmaster Snape would like to speak with you.” He muttered, conspicuously peeking into her room. “Ah, _Long_ bottom, is it? What are you doing up past curfew, Longbottom?”

McGonagall raised her chin, stepping to the side to block Neville from view. “He has come to discuss his grade in Transfiguration with me, not that it is of any of your concern, Argus. Neville, our discussion is over, please go with Argus back to your common room.”

Neville stood shakily up, peering at the unwashed, gibbering man. Filch had been in quite a pinch when Snape took power at Hogwarts after killing Albus in cold blood (the rage burned in her still, when the time came it would be she who would kill Snape, who would watch the life drain from his eyes. Albus Dumbledore had been their last hope, and he had trusted Snape with his life. A man who betrayed the kind of starry-eyed trust Dumbledore bestowed on him did not deserve to live). The Death Eaters disliked Filch, they considered him a blemish on his pureblood line, but he was so passionate about the disciplining and torturing of children that they didn’t want to dismiss him either. It resulted in his being suspended in a limbo, neither respected not thrown out.

McGonagall sighed as she marched down the hallways yet again, following the footsteps of her past self going to meet with Dumbledore and discuss the latest nonsense Harry Potter was up to. The path to the Headmaster’s chamber was full of memories, good and bad, memories of panic when they argued about where the infant Potter should stay, or Voldemort’s return, and memories of blissful happiness when she simply sat across the table from the most brilliant man she knew and chatted away about examinations.

There would be no more of that. The man behind the revolving griffin’s statues was Severus Snape, the traitor, the murderer, the snake, and he had something to say to her. McGonagall’s hands pressed into fists. If she didn’t have the dignity she prized over everything else, she would have taken a chance attacking him, showing him what he truly was, but she was a Professor at Hogwarts and a role model to the Gryffindor house. It would not do to lose her cool.

As she passed the open corridor that let the crisp night air into the castle, she considered losing her cool once more. Dumbledore had preferred several methods of lighting up the castle grounds for autumn, his favourite being, as always, ethereal orbs of light that cast a dim blue glow over the fields and into the hallways. It changed from time to time, she remembered the year he used sparkling starbursts, pink lamp-posts, even one time he created a full moon that was suspended a few metres from the centre of the castle, washing everything in silver.

In place of that full moon, now, was the bottle-green cloud that mimicked the chilling colour of an Avada Kedavra, that shadow over the school that refused to be dispelled by the thousands of sparks of brightness that tried so hard to resist it. A Dark Mark floated above the school grounds, the deep-green skull grinning madly as it swallowed its hissing, snapping snake. It was a constant reminder of who was winning, a symbol to dishearten any remaining wizards who clung to the principle of equality. It made McGonagall’s righteous anger skim the surface of her cool exterior, but not by much. They would not defeat her with cheap manipulation and bold treachery. Snape would not defeat her.

Minerva McGonagall stood a moment in that open corridor, her hands pressed against the railing separating her from a fall down into the grounds. She smiled, raising her wand, and refused to think about how Dumbledore had probably had the same breeze blowing against him as he fell to his death. She instead thought about his twinkling blue eyes, his immense wisdom, how she could always count on him to fix a problem with good humour and patience. A ball of silver appeared at the end of her wand, spilling into the ethereal form of a cat, which swished its tail at her before flitting away, passing right through the green monstrosity as it sped towards the safe-house of Remus Lupin. As she watched it fly, she sighed, turning back to the mission at hand.

McGonagall stood in front of the griffins, muttering the password under her breath as the Dark Mark cackled above them all, lighting up the school in green.


	5. Petrificus Totalus

Ripping the tape with his teeth was something Light Yagami looked incredibly attractive doing. Not that there were many things Light did that made him look unattractive (even his Kira laugh, despite its obvious connection to furthering his demise, had a kind of raw appeal), but being that close to L’s naked chest didn’t hurt matters.

L slapped himself on the forehead (when had he become such a horny bastard? He had always prided himself on being detached and rational at all times, what was it about Raito-kun that always made him so pathetic?), earning a quizzical look from the teenager as he stepped away. “Is that okay?”

L nodded, his midnight eyes boring into Light’s brown as he pulled his sweatshirt back on. Light crinkled his nose at the stained white of his old shirt, but didn’t comment.

The detective took the tape and pieces of paper from the boy, turning his gaze away. “Let me do you now.” He was trying so hard not to look forward to Light taking his shirt off…

There was a loud crack right in the middle of the room, and both men jumped, looking wildly around. Light was holding up his knife, his knuckles white, as L got into a defensive Capoeira posture, his right leg tucked back and ready to kick. In his heart, L was telling himself he was overreacting, it was probably a loose board or something creaking in this old, neglected house, but then there was suddenly a bedraggled man standing right in front of the couch, his slender stick (wand?) upraised.

Two more cracks, and there were two more people in the room at each side of the scraggly man: a beautiful woman with long wavy blond hair and sapphire-blue eyes and another man, one with shaggy red hair and a long scar running down his face, puckered and ugly. All three invaders pointed their wands at Light and L, slinking gracefully in a circle so the two detectives were forced to stick back-to-back in the middle.

“Put the knife down, lad.” The shabby man with the lank brown hair, who was currently facing Light, stated in a quiet voice. “Relax. We aren’t going to hurt you unless you give us reason to.”

“Why were you in the Forbidden Forest after dark in wartime?” The blond woman stepped forward, her voice a bell-like accented trill (a French accent, making him vaguely nostalgic), and L raised his leg, a clear warning. If she, or any of the three, got too close, he would break their necks. He wasn’t going to trust a person with a wand any farther than he could throw them. The scarred man noticed this, raising his wand, a grave expression on his face. _“Revelio_!” The wand swished, a strange ripple going through the air, blurring his vision as it swept the room.

Light, abruptly, raised his hands, his knife clattering to the ground. L realised with a shock that he was holding both of Light’s pieces of the Note in his fist, they hadn’t taped it on him yet. _Stupid, so stupid!_ Was he being controlled by these wizards? L growled and was about to strike the one who had cast the spell when Light nudged him slightly by the hip. Both of the teenager’s hands were behind his head, and he was giving them an innocent, vulnerable mask.

L tightened his jaw, but he knew Light was right. They were outnumbered, and despite the Note’s protection, they would not match up to powers they did not yet know about. They had to be rational here. He lowered his leg, relaxing into his regular hunch, placing both hands over his head with a little huff of annoyance.

_Why_ had they stayed in the house? It was arrogant of them, not to mention careless. Just because Longbottom seemed stupid and had no reason to betray them didn’t mean he necessarily wouldn’t!

“We’re...not from around here.” Light stammered in his best approximation of a nervous teenager’s voice, amplifying his Japanese accent in an attempt to seem more vulnerable. “We got lost in the woods. We didn’t know they were Forbidden, we apologise profusely. Another person, Mr. Longbottom, he told us we could stay here. We didn’t mean to trespass.”

The man in the shabby robes narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Hand over your wands.”

Light blinked as if he had never heard that word before. L almost rolled his eyes, Raito-kun was laying it on a bit thick. “I’m so sorry but we have no wands.”

“No wands?” The blond woman looked incredulous. “That is a lie. Bring us your wands or we will be forced to stun you.”

The teenager shook his head, his eyes wide in feigned (or was it real?) panic. L wondered how he could pass the pieces without the wizards noticing, but there were too many eyes on them at the moment. “I’m not lying, we have no wands. You can search-”

The redheaded man shook his head disapprovingly. “We have wasted enough time. If this is a trap, we are walking right into it, letting them delay us this long. We can check them at Safe-House Five. _Petrificus Totalus!”_

L spun around just before the spell hit Light, pressing the piece of the Death Note to his back. The force of the spell hit him right in the chest, making him stagger back, but L caught him around the shoulders, keeping him upright. The two other wizards noticed this, aiming their spells at L, all ineffective, of course. Infuriated, the detective grabbed his partner’s hand, pressing his pieces into it, then rushed forward towards the nearest attacker, the blond woman, his leg shooting out and kicking her in the stomach. She gasped, her hands grasping for her wand as she fell over.

“Fleur!” The scarred man choked out, rushing towards the two who were now grappling over her wand. L had just closed his hand around the stem of the wand when a fist caught him on the cheekbone, throwing him back against the floor. He flipped onto his elbows, his legs springing to action, flinging the attacking redhead across the room. Fleur took advantage of the momentary distraction, hurling herself on top of him, though the wand was long gone.

 “You _stay down!_ Stay down! Bill, stun him!”

_“Stupefy!”_ Bill, the attacker he had thrown across the room, yelled. A bright green spell stung L on the left thigh, the only area not covered by the fierce and enthusiastic blond Frenchwoman. “ _Stupefy_ , goddamn it! I’m not missing, am I?”

“Petrificus Totalus!” All of a sudden, Bill grew stiff, his eyes bulging as he fell onto his side, propped against the wall, a tilted marble sculpture. _“Petrificus Totalus!”_ The voice screaming the words was angrier than he had ever heard it, cracking mid-scream and dripping with venomous fury. The Frenchwoman pinning him down collapsed lifelessly against him like a plank of wood. He pushed her off of him and climbed to his feet, his thumb against his lips.

“You, put your wand down. Put it down, or I’ll petrify you too.” Light snapped at the third man, who quite readily dropped the weapon at his feet. The teenager was holding the wand like a pencil, delicately between his fingers, aimed at the shabbily dressed brunet. “Kick it towards me.”

The man stared at him but complied. “Alright.” The wand rolled to Light’s feet, he picked it up and held it loosely in the hand that had his Death Note pieces crumpled in it. Light glared at the man, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Don’t you dare try making any moves.”

The threadbare man raised his hands in surrender, but he didn’t look half as unnerved as L felt. “I won’t. We shouldn’t have attacked. I apologise for my colleagues.”

Light eyed him suspiciously. “Who are you people? Why did you attack us?” Light gestured for L to secure the two petrified wizards. The detective wasn’t sure how to do that, placing them both in lines on the floor since he was unable to move their limbs (he noticed that their eyes were following him, indignant and humiliated, what had Light done to them?). The man at Light’s wand-point noted his struggle with mild amusement.

“There’s no need to do that, you know. They are petrified, they won’t move unless you use a counter-charm.”

L cocked his head to the side, studying the man who had spoken. “What is your name?”

“Remus Lupin. I am a member of the Order, come to take you to a safe-house. Would you like to come with us?”

Light’s hold on Fleur’s wand became tighter, and its tip glowed a gentle crimson. “Bullshit. Longbottom told us about the Order,” Lupin flinched at this, annoyed, “they were supposed to send in some sort of spirit animal to warn us before they come, in the _morning_.”

Lupin shook his head, his mouth tight. “Longbottom, unfortunately, while a brave and honourable boy, doesn’t know all the facts. He was not supposed to tell you anything about us in the first place. We are definitely the Order, and I am convinced that you are not Death Eaters or in any way allied with them.” The man gave them a tentative smile. “Please, we must not delay. If we are discovered, it would mean torture and death.”

Light exchanged a look with L, who shrugged. “Prove that you are the Order.”

“Alright. May I have my wand? I shall show you my patronus.”

Light stepped back. “Fuck that. Prove it some other way.”

Remus started to look pissed. “The fact that I haven’t incapacitated you and taken you to You-Know-Who is proof enough. I am Remus Lupin, a known Order member from both wars. I was warned that you are not familiar with the wars, that you are muggle-borns who were somehow sheltered from the happenings of the Wizarding world, so how am I supposed to prove it to you? If it makes you feel better, you may keep my and Fleur’s wands, but we must hurry-”

And then there were voices outside the hut, people crunching through the leaves as they headed this way. “Yeah, I mean, where else could he hide them? He would definitely hide them, that sneaky Gryffindor bastard.”

Lupin’s nostrils flared as he ran towards Light. The teenager cringed away, raising the wand but at a loss of what to say, but the wizard dived past him, getting to Bill and Fleur. He looked up at L and Light. “Hurry, they will find us. If they find you, they will torture you, kill you or imprison you. It is not safe here. I have a portkey, it will take us to safety. Come here and trust me.” Remus held up a gold coin. _“Come here this minute!”_

L grabbed Light by the upper arm, dragging him towards the three wizards. “Come on, Raito-kun, you said it yourself. Longbottom seemed trustworthy.” The doorknob of the front door turned once, twice. Two heavy bangs on the wood. “Open this door! _Alohomora!”_

Lupin held up the coin, lifting Bill and Fleur so they were both making contact with the shiny currency. “Touch the coin. Now.” L did so, grabbing Light’s wrist, but the boy suddenly jerked away.   
“Wait!” He yelped, sprinting towards the couch. L felt a chill run down his spine. _Had he forgotten the Death Note in all this mess?_

Light pulled the backpack over his shoulder just as the door blew open, revealing a squat man in jewel-green robes, his hair oily and curling down his shoulders. He stared at the scene in front of him, astonished. Lupin let out a curse as Light finally brushed his fingertips against the coin. _“Portus!”_ The bedraggled wizard yanked his wand from Light and yelled. The coin immediately glowed a bright blue, and suddenly, the only sound in L’s ears was the furious cry of the Slytherin man in the doorway.


	6. Ron Weasley

Ron Weasley wanted to throw himself off of a cliff.

What kind of a friend would abandon his friends in the middle of a life-threatening adventure to destroy the fatal flaws of their enemies (not that it was particularly life-threatening, with all the camping and s’mores…no! He would not think that way!). What he had done was unforgivable and petty, and he knew he would never have forgiven someone who treated him the way he had just treated his friends.

Well, maybe he would have forgiven Hermione. Or Harry. Or Ginny or Fred or George or Bill, but not Percy. Never Percy, that insufferable git.

Stop with the tangents! He was thinking about what a git _he_ was, not Percy! He didn’t have the right to think about Percy after doing literally the same thing that traitor did: he walked out on his friends and lost them, and he had no way of getting them back. No way.

Ron collapsed onto the stairs in front of Shell Cottage and began to cry.

Hermione, he had abandoned Hermione and ignored that stricken look on her face, he had ignored her tears, he had ignored Harry’s reassurances and reasoning, he had ignored the two best friends he had in this world and opted to disapparate on them without thinking for one bloody second (he was such an idiot! How did anyone put up with him? How did Hermione put up with him with all those brains in her head?) and now he was alone and he could never find them again.

He couldn’t even muster up the courage to knock on his brother’s front door. He was a disgrace! He was a disgrace, what would his family say when they found out he left Harry and Hermione alone in the forest…

There was a flash in the corner of his vision. Ron lifted his head to see Lupin appear a few yard away, accompanied by a lanky brunet teenager and a strange spider-like man who was hunched painfully under his mop of messy black hair. At his feet, to Ron’s alarm, was Bill lying flat on his back, right next to a too-still Fleur.

He got to his feet, rushing over in a panic and hurriedly wiping his face with the end of his sweater just in time to see Lupin cast a “Finite Incantatem!” on the wizards at his feet. They stirred, getting to their feet and giving the two strangers hateful looks.

“You almost got us killed!” Fleur yelled in her accented English. Ron couldn’t help but notice how the moonlight shone in her blond hair, making it glow silver. He then promptly slapped himself across the face. He had been away from Hermione for a total of twenty-four hours and he was already checking out Fleur? He truly was a garbage human being.

“What exactly did you expect? You were assaulting my friend, how am I supposed to have reacted to you? Who the fuck are you, anyway?” The brown-haired teenager’s English was equally accented, though he most definitely wasn’t French. He was holding a wand tightly in one hand, keeping it pointing warily away from any living body, the way a person may hold a snake by the tail.

Lupin, ever the peacemaker, stepped between them, holding up his hands. “Now, now. Keep it down, please. I don’t want to wake everyone in the cottage.”

“Well, then, tell him to give my wand back!” Fleur screamed. Bill finally seemed to wake up, elbowing Fleur out of the way. “Expelliarmus.” He pointed his own wand at the feet of the incensed stranger, from whose hands flew the oak-brown wand and a crumpled-up ball of paper. The boy yelped, trying to grab the paper in the middle of its arc, but it landed in Bill’s gloved hands. The redhead stepped smartly back, shoving the page in his own pocket.

“Give that back!” The boy shouted, rushing at Bill, who danced away from him, reminding him of how the twins would bait Ron on one of their bad days. The teenager, realising that he was being played with, stopped, his hands in fists at his sides, eyes narrowed as he glared at the second-oldest Weasley sibling. “Give that back to me. It’s my property.”

“Like hell I’m giving you anything before we have an interrogation.”

The teenager marched up to Bill, eyes flashing and jaw tight, but the spider-like man in the white sweatshirt reached out and grabbed his upper arm. “Raito-kun, calm down.” He turned to Lupin, who was watching the proceedings with practiced amusement. Ron was taken back to the memory of Harry’s trip down Snape’s past, where his friend had seen James Potter and Sirius Black bullying Snape while Lupin watched amusedly.

“Please, Mr. Lupin, tell your man to give the paper back to Light. It is…of sentimental value to him.”

Bill unfolded the paper, dodging Light’s desperate grab. “It’s blank! What kind of sentimental value does a blank sheet of paper have to him?”

“The fuck does it matter to you?” Light growled. “I need it back!”

Lupin sighed. “Bill. We’re all allies here. They are not Death Eaters, give him the paper back.”

Reluctantly, Bill handed over the sheet and Light stuck it in the pocket of his jeans, darting a resentful look at the scarred redhead. The black-haired stranger, who was scarily pale in the moonlight, patted the boy’s arm comfortingly before turning back to Lupin. “Thank you, Mr. Lupin. Would you mind telling us where we are?” This man had no accent, though his English did have a cultured air to it.

“We are in Shell Cottage. Bill and Fleur’s home. This way, we-” Lupin stopped as he stared directly at Ron. Ron’s face turned a sickly green as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

“Ron?” Bill exclaimed, shoving past everyone and running to Ron’s side. “What are you doing here? Are you alright? Where’s Potter?”

Ron’s eyes filled with unwelcome tears. “I…they left without me…”

“What? Why in the bloody hell would they do that? What did you do, Ronald?”

Ron finally snapped. “I left them! I disapparated and got caught by Snatchers, and by the time I got back they had gone! I couldn’t find them! And that was _weeks_ ago!” He sobbed openly, knowing that he didn’t deserve dignity, not after what he did. “I was such a prat,  I wanted to do something to help, all we were doing was camping in the woods for so damn long, we weren’t doing anything, we weren’t finding anything! I tried to go back in the minute I left but they was gone, Bill, they was gone! I looked for them for weeks! I stayed in muggle houses and moved everywhere looking for them! _Weeks!”_

Bill hesitantly patted his back. “It’s okay, Ron. Don’t cry…”

“But it’s all my fault! Just because we weren’t doing anything I forgot the big picture, I left my friends to hunt the Horcruxes on their own! How am I-”

“Horcruxes?”

Ron paused mid-sob to gawk at the brunet teenager, who was staring at him with shining eyes, his face a mask of pure hopeful delight. “Did you say _Horcruxes?”_

 Everyone was silent, and tension filled the air. Lupin grabbed the stranger’s arm, pulling him in the direction of the cottage. “This way, now. Come on.” The boy wrenched his arm from Lupin, glaring at him as his friend loped to his side, stepping smartly between him and the werewolf. The boy turned his attention back to Ron, that toothy grin back on his (unsettlingly attractive) face.

“Please, _please_ tell me you know the Shinigami. Do you know Ryuk? Have you seen him around?” The boy said in that alluring accent, his words quick and slipping over each other in their haste.

Ron, slowly, shook his head. “Um. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

In a split second, all the hope on the boy’s face transformed into fury. He strode up to Ron and grabbed him by the collar. Luckily, though, Ron was taller and so the boy had to drag him down to meet him face-to-face. “Don’t you dare give me that, you tell me where that fucking Shinigami is!”

“I don’t know what a Shinigami is! Get the bloody hell off of me!”

 _“Where is Ryuk?_ I know he’s around here somewhere, messing with us. You said Horcruxes, you know where he is, _tell me!”_

“Raito-kun, let him go, for God’s sake.” The black-haired man nudged the teenager, who instantly released Ron’s collar. “You’d think the top student of Japan would have a better hold over his emotions.”

Light (or Raito-kun) gave him a heated glare. “He knows where the Shinigami are!”

“No, I don’t! Merlin’s beard, I don’t know anything, alright?”

The spidery man shoved Light out of the way and stuck out his hand, though he looked as if he didn’t actually expect him to shake it. “Hello. My name is Ryuuzaki. I am a private investigator, and I require all of the information you have about Death Gods. Have you heard of Death Gods? I believe they refer to themselves as such in all languages.”

Ron was speechless, looking beseechingly at Lupin, who sighed as he came over and patted Ryuuzaki’s shoulder. “Please, Mr. Ryuuzaki, Ronald is not in a position to answer questions as of now. He is not in a stable emotional state. How about I do my best to answer your queries?” He began to lead them towards the cottage (which, Ron noticed, had all of its lights on, its occupants gawking at them out the windows), but the Asian teenager jerked out of his grasp yet again.

 “If you don’t know about the Death Gods, how do you know about Horcruxes?”

Ron knew it was a top-secret mission, he knew he should not be telling anybody, but it appeared he couldn’t do anything right anyway, so why not. “M-my friends are out looking for them. They’re risking their lives and I just abandoned them, I left them, I don’t deserve to be their friend, I don’t deserve to be here. I deserve to be killed by You-Know-Who.” He started to sob again. Bill was at a loss of what to do, so he settled for resuming his steady patting on his back.

“There, there, Ron. You can explain everything inside, come on.” He led him along the stone pathway, rubbing his back soothingly. Everyone else followed them, the two strangers walking side-by-side, the one called Light in deep thought, his hands shoved in his pockets, as the private investigator stared him down, his thumb against his lips as he took a tentative bite out of his fingernail.

Not that Ron was paying them much attention in the first place. They stepped into the warm kitchen, and all Ron could think about was Harry and Hermione in their cold tent, warming themselves with the heat of their bodies and a clumsily cast Hot-Air Charm. Bill sat him down at the table while Fleur put on the kettle, and Ron thought about how Hermione had not had a pot of tea since before the wedding. Nobody spoke as the kettle whistled (Lupin had probably taken the strangers to a spare room and locked the door), and it was still silent when Fleur poured his tea into a china cup and set it in front of him.

Bill pulled up a chair and sat comfortably in it, folding his hands on the table. Fleur stood beside him, her hands crossed in front of her chest, and a severe look on her usually carelessly ethereal face. Lupin, however, came to stand next to Ron, squeezing his shoulder.

“Well, Ron?” Bill asked, nearly accusatorily. “Are you going to explain yourself?”


	7. Horcruxes

“So, Raito-kun, what are Horcruxes?”

L was pissed off, yet again. He seemed to be the only one with no clue what was happening, and it was getting on his nerves. He had assumed Light was just as clueless as him, considering they had come from the same place for God’s sake, so how on Earth was he _casting spells_ and spitting out gibberish as if he had been born here?

L was the greatest detective in the world. He wasn’t allowed to be clueless, and he was especially not allowed to be the only clueless person around.

Light paced the room they had been locked in, chewing on his lip and drumming his fingers on his elbow. Absently, he tossed a gold coin in the air (was that Lupin’s portkey? Had Light pickpocketed the wizard?) and caught it in his other hand. L’s questions had just been going in one ear and out the other, and it was doing nothing to improve the detective’s mood. “Raito-kun?”

“Yeah, Ryuuzaki.” He mumbled, obviously preoccupied. He stopped in front of the window, which looked over the rocky seaside, and stared out into the horizon, slipping the coin into his pocket. Contemplative, he placed his hand on the cold glass and drummed his fingers there, a steady patter that soon had L’s blood boiling.

“Raito-kun, I would appreciate it if you paid attention to me.”

Light gave him a wry glance. “Of course you would.” He turned back to the view outside, sliding his fingers down the window frame. “Do you mind if I open the window?”

L clenched his fists. “Raito-kun, I could care less about the window. Stop baiting me and answer my questions.”

When he was faced with that wide-eyed-innocent look (the one Light had perfected to such extremes that it was too good to be true; the one that had clued L in that Light was Kira in the first place), L was in danger of actually kicking the expression off of his face. “Baiting you, L?”

“What. Is. A. Horcrux. Light?”

The boy, infuriatingly, took all the time in the world to unlatch the window and creak it open so the salty smell of the sea flooded in. He sat on the windowsill with a little hop, leaning his head out into the breeze and shutting his eyes.

“Light, goddamn it-”

“Ryuk told me about Horcruxes back when I was Kira.”

L snapped his jaw shut.

“I was asking him about the Shinigami eyes. You have to trade in half your lifespan to get them, and I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to spend a nice long time in my perfect New World, judging criminals as their benevolent God. So I asked him if there was anything I could do to bypass that rule, and he told me about Horcruxes.”

Light smiled charmingly, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “He loved the idea of them, which made sense because they would probably be very fun to watch. Well, for the Shinigami, anyway. Basically, you attract a Shinigami by performing…a sequence of atrocious acts, then having them allow you to write the Shinigami’s real name in their notebook. Since the Shinigami can’t die of heart attacks or earthly accidents, they don’t die by the Note, but the power that goes into writing a Death God’s name in the notebook splits your soul. Apparently you can channel that soul into an earthly object and hide it away. Since your soul is now protected by the object, when your lifespan runs out, you don’t actually die. The object with your soul in it is called a Horcrux.”

L’s thumb brushed his bottom lip as he stared at the brunet painted silver in the light of the half-moon, who was smirking in that unsettling way that reminded him of a certain mass-murderer who wanted him dead. Luckily, or unluckily, his eyes were closed, so L couldn’t see if his gaze had sharpened and narrowed, if his irises had darkened into a murky scarlet.

“I considered making a Horcrux. It would have been easy, with the help of the Death Note. I could pick the worst murderers and rapists, have them meet me in a secluded area and…I could have had them die how I needed them to die. It would have been simple and convenient, there were enough criminals walking free in Tokyo, but…”

He opened his eyes and L took in a sharp breath, taking a step back, blocking Light’s backpack from the boy’s line of sight. Those cold, calculating eyes zeroed in on L, dissecting him, pulling apart everything that constituted him. “But…you were watching me. You were watching my every move, and it would be very suspicious if you happened to notice known murderers meeting me in alleyways and warehouses, their bodies mysteriously washing up a few days later. So it’s thanks to _you_ that I’m mortal.”

A stone dropped in L’s stomach as he watched Kira’s eyes roving the room and stopping where L was shielding the backpack from view. That smirk grew on his face, his eyes flashing. “Why are you standing there like that, L?”

L ducked his head, glaring ferociously at his greatest enemy, trying not to feel that twinge of pain that always accompanied these episodes. “Stop it, Yagami-kun.”

The boy’s face split in a wide, near-maniacal grin. “Yagami-kun, eh? Are you angry with me, L? Are you angry with your Raito?”

_“Light.”_

Light snickered, but his eyes were stone-cold, forbidding. “I wonder why you never call me Kira-kun when you’re angry, the way you did when I first confessed. Do you remember? Back then, I assumed it would be a regular affair.” He mused. “It certainly irritated me enough for you to at least consider it. After all, that is your prime objective nowadays, isn’t it? Making sure I stay as irritated as possible?”

L shook his head. “I don’t know where you get this from. Every time, Light. Every time, you make some baseless accusation-”

“Baseless? Half your actions wouldn’t make sense if you weren’t actively trying to annoy me. Why else would you bother me right now? I was formulating a plan to find Ryuk and get us home again, and you just have to interrupt me and ask me these inane questions-”

“I wanted to know, Light! I don’t know anything about this place, at least you have some idea-”

“ _Why_ do you have to know, L? It’s not like you know anything at all anyway! What use will one piece of information be? What use are _you-”_

L stalked up to him and slapped him hard across the face. Light’s head snapped to the side with the force of his blow, and it was a tense moment before he righted it, his fringe falling messily over his forehead, his eyes hard, hiding deep fury behind the amber.

“What. The. Fuck-”

The detective slapped him again, harder, and when the boy grabbed his wrist and held it forcefully down he used his other hand, hitting the boy with all the force he could muster right across the mouth.

_“L!”_ He screamed, catching his other hand and holding it in a vice-like grip. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Get back to your senses, Light, or so help me-”

“You _bastard!”_ He shoved L away from him, dabbing at his lip. L suddenly noticed that he was bleeding, the red pooling slowly and dripping down his chin. He wiped it off, staring at the crimson on his fingers, eyes wide in horror. “You bastard, why would you do that?”

“Why would I do that? _Why would I do that?_ I saved _Light Yagami_ from the executioner’s chair, not Kira. _Kira_ is dead, he has _no right_ to be alive any longer.”

Rather than work on a biting retort, as Kira would have done, Light worried at his lower lip, wiping away the remaining blood on the back of his hand. “Fuck you, L. Just fuck you.” He raised his eyes to meet his, and they were soft and amber-brown, and while they may not have been warm at that exact moment, they were a far cry from the icy nothing he had just seen them become.

L felt dunked in cold relief, goose-bumps rising on his arms. “Oh, thank god.” He collapsed back with so much force that he sat down on the ground, crossing his legs under him and resting his face in his hands.

After a few moments of getting his heartbeat under control, he looked up to see Light peering curiously at him. _Light,_ his chocolate brown eyes glinting in the silver moonlight. L tried to suppress his smile, but it broke through with all the force of his relief, splitting his face and stretching in his cheeks. Before he knew it, he was laughing, cackling really, his hands pressed against his stomach. He jumped to his feet, loping to Raito-kun and gathering him in a tight hug, wrapping his arms around the boy’s ribs and just about fusing with his lean frame. He could feel his every breath through his shirt as he struggled to escape his grasp.

“L, you’re going insane. Let me go.”

The detective snuggled into the boy’s chest. “No, Raito-kun, I will never let you go. Never, while there is breath in my body, and probably not even after that.”

The boy made a choked noise, wriggling and pushing L away. “Damn it, L, I can’t _breathe.”_

L loosened his grasp slightly, and Light took in a dramatic gasp of air. “God. What is wrong with you? You bipolar _weirdo_ -”

L raised his hand to Light’s face, cupping his jaw, his fingers nestled tenderly under his ear. The boy blinked, staring at him. “L?”

The detective’s heart was beating loudly in his chest. He placed his other hand on Light’s other cheek, which was still bright red and hot from the slap. “Raito-kun.” He gently ran a hand over the sensitive skin, cooling it with the flat of his palm.

“What, L?” The boy’s cheeks weren’t cooling, they were heating up further.

“Raito-kun, I…” _love you. You scare me so much every time I think I’m about to lose you, I love you._ The words stuck on his tongue and coiled down his throat. He shook his head, releasing the teenager. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Light pursed his lips, looking away. “I’m sorry. I…I can’t help it. I don’t know what gets into me…” There was a silence, where Light appeared to be carefully picking his words.

When he was finally ready to speak, he raised his eyes from the floor and saw L gnawing on his thumb. “L…just for the record. I would never create a Horcrux, no matter what it meant. The process to create it…it’s horrifying. I might say I would create one, but…I don’t think I have the stomach.”

L didn’t look at him. The detective shuffled over to the meagre cot lining the bedroom wall, slumping onto it and raising both feet onto it, wrapping his arms around his thighs. “I know, Raito-kun. I know you would never do that.”

“Well, yeah.” There was a pause, and then Light cracked a grin. “But I certainly tried my best to negotiate!” He chuckled good-naturedly, trying to lighten the mood as he sat beside L. “I figured that all the disgusting stuff happens to attract a Shinigami in the first place, so I could jump to the crux of the matter and keep my conscience clean, since I had two Shinigami to choose from. I tried getting Ryuk’s real name, to no avail, obviously, since Ryuk is a dick. I got a bit more progress with Rem and her undying love for Misa, but I guess even true love has its limits. She refused to give me her real name, said something about a decree from the Shinigami King about the ritual having to be performed before any Shinigami revealed their names.” Light shrugged. “So, yeah. I ended up mortal and Horcrux-less.”

There was a pause.

“Are you truly unhappy about that?” L whispered.

Light swallowed. “L…I’m really sorry. I really, truly don’t mean to…to say those things.”

“To become Kira. Say it like it is, Light.”

Light swallowed. “I don’t know when it’s happening. L, you have to believe me, everything I say when I’m in that state-”

“I know, Light. Raito-kun. I know.” L put an arm around Light’s slumped shoulders, pulling him closer. _I love you, Raito-kun, of course I know. I understand completely, and I love that you are trying to overcome it, I love that you are trying to fight it and come back to me every time. I love you, I love you, I love you._

The boy looked at him, giving him a tiny smile, as if he heard the thoughts running through his head. “Thanks for putting up with me, L. I’m glad you haven’t…” The boy laughed breathily. “I’m glad you haven’t executed me. I’m sure I deserve it. I won’t…I won’t break our pact. I won’t break your trust, I promise.”

L allowed Light to nestle his head on the older man’s chest. “Light…anybody would say you deserve it…but they wouldn’t know you. You don’t deserve to die. Not _you_.”

“Kira, then. But Kira _is_ me.”

Instinctively, L bunched the hair at the nape of Light’s neck in his hand, roughly pulling the teenager up to eye-level. Light gasped, his face scrunched in pain, and L immediately let go. He hadn’t meant to hurt him, but _he had to know._ “You are _not_ Kira, Light. Kira was a part of you that you indulged with the notebook, which grew into a whole personality because of the immense power you were given. He isn’t _you_ , he is a part of you, and you cannot let him take control, do you understand?”

Light nodded, rubbing the back of his head resentfully. L gave him a disdainful look, opting to chew on his thumbnail rather than feel guilty about manhandling him.

There was a moment’s silence, but it was comfortable this time, and there was a warmth between the two men that neither wanted to acknowledge just yet.

“That guy down there, that wizard…he said he’s hunting for Horcruxes. And where there are Horcruxes, there are Shinigami.”

L nodded. “We must join him when he leaves. He was upset that he couldn’t find his friends, he will rest here and leave to find them soon.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” Light smiled. “Fuck what Kira says, I’m glad you’re here to brainstorm with me.”

L let himself grin in response, taking Light’s hand in his and squeezing it tight.


	8. Fleur Delacour

The door unlocked around nine-thirty in the morning, well after L had woken from his doze, but only a quarter hour after Light had rolled over in bed, curling up into himself for an extra ten half-conscious minutes.

 Usually, when L stayed up all night, he had cases to work on or conspiracies to unravel, or _something_ to do, really. He wondered what Watari and the successors were doing without him.

They didn’t think he was dead, did they? Dead, or…kidnapped? If they thought he was kidnapped, they would be wasting a lot of time looking over the local rings-

Wait, what could they have figured from L disappearing with Light? Watari had asked him about his feelings shortly before Light’s Shinigami realm plan, and his reply had been as ambiguous as possible. _They wouldn’t think…?_

L glanced over at the slumbering teenager and chuckled under his breath. It wasn’t far-fetched, at least. All L knew was that he had spent nearly seven hours with nothing to do but stare at Light’s sleeping face, and he still wasn’t tired of it.

The bedroom door slowly unlatched, so L grabbed Light’s shoulder and shook, breaking him out of his half-sleep. “H-huh? What?”

The door squeaked open, and who would stick her head in but Fleur, the ethereal Frenchwoman, dressed in a grey-blue smock, her fine golden hair twisted in a knot behind her head. L realised with a jolt that with her flowing blond hair and sophisticated beauty, Fleur looked exactly like a European combination of Misa Amane and Kiyomi Takada, Light’s girlfriend from college. In other words, she was exactly Light’s type. Beside him, the teenager in question elegantly sat up, running his hand casually through his chestnut hair to get it in order (not that it needed order to look sexier than L could ever hope to be).

“Hello. I didn’t mean to wake you.” The willowy woman said, drawing out the I-sounds in her nostalgia-inducing French accent, as she placed a tray on their bedside table. There were two sandwiches, spread with a bit of ketchup and butter. L had never seen anything more outrageous. Did they have a lack of doughnuts in this world? Were there no cookies or cakes?

Actually, considering they were at war, that wouldn’t be surprising. Why did Light have to take them to a world at war? Why couldn’t he have taken them to a Parisian bakery or even a sugar factory? L wouldn’t mind working his ass off (or maybe he would, actually. L wasn’t denying his laziness) if only it meant he could eat a substantial amount of sugar every day.

Light smiled at her, sticking out his hand in the appropriately Western fashion. “We didn’t get a chance to meet properly yesterday. My name is Light Yagami.”

Fleur blinked, an amused glint in her eyes. “Your name is _Light?”_

L fully expected Light to get aggravated (after all, as L had discovered early on, his pride was very sensitive), but the brunet’s only response was to smile charmingly. “In my defence, I didn’t choose it. What about you?”

Fleur shook his hand firmly, her smile growing. “I didn’t choose it either, but in my case it isn’t so bad. I’m Fleur Delacour.”

“Fleur Delacour.” Light tasted the name. “I am sorry about last night. I hope there are no hard feelings about…the petrifaction, and whatnot.”

Fleur curled her lip, but her expression held good humour. “You nearly got us captured, Light Yagami. I would appreciate it if you do not do such things in the future.”

L crossed his arms, annoyed for reasons unknown to him. “Perhaps you should not assault people, if you do not wish to be attacked back.”

Fleur raised her eyebrows expressively as she started to toss a biting retort at the detective. L prepared his own sarcasm for a response, but they were both interrupted by Light, who placed his hand firmly on L’s shoulder. “Let’s put that behind us, shall we? Everything worked out, that’s what’s important.”

L darted a heated glare at the teenager who, to L’s absolute fury, wasn’t even looking at him, busy directing the full extent of his abundant charms towards the blond woman.

“Yes, you are right. I apologise as well, for attacking you, though you were behaving quite suspiciously.”

Light shrugged. “It’s a matter of perspective, I suppose.” He reached out to take one of the disgusting sandwiches (without brushing his teeth, L noticed. That was very, very unlike his Raito-kun) and took a delicate bite out of the crust.

Fleur sat at his bedside, her hands folded primly in her lap. “Do you actually not have wands? Were they stolen from you?”

Light thought for a moment, then shook his head (again, uncharacteristically. Light always made it a point to lie wherever convenient). “No, we have no wands where we come from.”

Fleur blinked. “Where do you come from?”

Light thought a moment, then grinned. “Japan?”

Fleur smiled amusedly. “Well, I have never seen a Japanese wizard before. How do you cast magic, if you do not use wands?”

“We don’t.” He laughed merrily, which was highly unnerving for the stoic detective beside him. The boy put the sandwich back on the tray. “We didn’t know we were wizards until a few hours ago. In Japan, we thought we were muggles. I guess there isn’t a very strong presence of magic back there. We ended up here in what I now realise is a magical accident, so we’re lost and have no way of getting home.”

Fleur looked distressed, her hand brushing the back of Light’s. L felt a sharp spike of annoyance pierce him somewhere below his ribs. “I wish I could help you! Do you know how to apparate? No, it would be quite dangerous over such a long distance. Unfortunately, because of the War the Floo network and all forms of travel outside the country have been shut down and monitored, so it isn’t safe to leave. I too haven’t seen my sister Gabrielle in France for so very long, I miss her terribly. Perhaps…perhaps you can wait out the war here, until it is safe for you to return!”

Light nodded, looking perfectly miserable, and right after that charming laughter too. _The boy should be given an Oscar._ “I understand, but Mr. Longbottom had enlightened us about the war you are fighting here. We want to help with the war effort. It appears that you are fighting more of a secretive coup-style war rather than an all-out one with soldiers and armies.”

Fleur smiled widely. “Oh, that is so nice of you! I am sorry for ever doubting your intentions, Light Yagami, you are a good man. Yes, we are very much willing to employ your help however we can in the Order, and yes, it isn’t a blatant war between governments. It is a civil war between the good people and the bigoted ones who support the evil dictator Vold-the Dark Lord.”

“Ah, yes, the Dark Lord.” L drawled, rolling his eyes. Light elbowed him in the ribs, making L hiss in pain.

“Vold?”

Fleur sighed. “His name has a Taboo curse on it. Do not speak it, or the Death Eaters will know your location.”

Light cocked his head. “Is he the one Ron is hunting the Horcruxes of?”

Fleur’s angelic frame grew stiff. “You are not supposed to know that information. How did you learn it, if you did not know that you were a wizard?”

Light pressed his lips together. “I did not know I was a wizard, but I do know the folklore of my country.” L raised his eyebrows. Light was milking his status as a foreigner for all it was worth. “Where I come from, there are beings known as Shinigami who create Horcruxes that allow a person to remain immortal. If the man you call the Dark Lord has created a Horcrux, it is no wonder that you want to hunt them down and destroy them.”

Light lowered his gaze, appropriately shocked by the idea of Horcruxes. L shook his head in mixed awe and disgust. “I am looking for a Shinigami named Ryuk. He is the one who caused the accident that brought us here. I wonder…I wonder if you would help us find him, perhaps.”

Fleur puckered her brow. “We…are quite preoccupied with the war-”

Light widened his eyes and raised his palms. “Oh, no, I fully intend to help you with the war. It is much more important than my personal objectives-”

Fleur grabbed his hands, holding them tightly in hers, her eyes glimmering with emotion. “Light Yagami, I and the Order shall do our best to help you find your Shinigami, if you will tell us how.”

Light looked away from her, at their intertwined hands. “Well…we will find the Shinigami with the Horcruxes.” He peeked at her from under his eyelashes. “If it is possible, I would like to accompany Ron on his mission when he chooses to resume it.”

Fleur pursed his lips, but her eyes flashed with determination. “Then I shall do my best to plead your case for you. I do not see the harm you will cause, you appear to be highly intelligent and a reasonably strong wizard, if your Petrifaction charm was any indication. I shall explain the situation to Bill and Remus, and I shall bring you your answer. In the meantime, please, eat your breakfast.” She stood up, smiling warmly at him before she swept out the door.

Before she turned at the doorway, however, she peeked back at Light, who had picked up his sandwich again. “I was going to go shopping later today for supplies and food. Perhaps you can accompany me. We can fetch you and your friend wands. Of course, we can’t buy them, that would be suspicious, but Gabrielle is quite adept at stealing and taught me a few tricks we can use at the black market.”

“Hah, thievery? I would be glad to.” Light quipped, and Fleur laughed.

“Well, I shall see you in the afternoon, then. The bathroom is down the hallway, if you need it.”

After Fleur disappeared, Light beamed cheekily at L. “I got us wands!”

The detective had been simmering quietly in his place for quite a while now, so it was remarkable how his anger melted away when faced with that smile.

“Yes, I see you did.”

Light skipped out of bed, taking a huge bite out of the sandwich and shutting his eyes in exaggerated pleasure. “Damn, I was really hungry. I should probably brush my teeth first, huh?”

“Yes, you probably should.”

Light gave him a sardonic look out the corner of his eye. “You can lighten up, you know. I scored a victory here.”

“Yes. A victory.” L muttered. Light rolled his eyes.

“Fine, don’t appreciate my efforts. See if I care.” The boy sauntered out of the room in the direction Fleur had pointed, leaving his half-eaten sandwich behind. L stared after him, considering throwing a pillow at him, but settled for tossing the covers over himself and punching the mattress.


	9. Metamorphmagus

Excitement was not a feeling Light Yagami was accustomed to. If they ever condensed his life into snapshots in which he wore his true emotions on his face, it would not be a very uplifting photo album (his mother, for one, would probably burn it).

Lately, though, he was starting to get used to feeling like a giddy teenager, waiting eagerly for something to happen, be it writing in the Death Note, watching his plans succeed, the trip to the Shinigami realm, his friendship with the world’s (three) greatest detective(s), and now the visit into the Wizarding world. Fleur was definitely hyping it up, not that she needed to considering the floating plates soaping up in the sink, the butter knives cutting into the self-sacrificial loaves of bread and the strange woman with the pink hair sitting at the kitchen table, cradling her heavily-pregnant belly as she proceeded to lengthen her nose to impossible extents just to watch Light gawk at her.

“And so you must not draw attention no matter what, _comprendre?_ ” Fleur chirped as she billowed about the room. “…Tonks! You must not do that, you do not know what effect that could have on the baby!”

Tonks waggled her eyebrows as her jaw slowly lengthened, growing long grey hair all over until it resembled the mug of a very insane, very male prisoner. “Just practicing, Fleur! Don’t mind me.” She winked at Light, who was staring open-mouthed at her.

“How are you doing that? Is that magic too?” He asked, his eyes wider than he ever remembered them being. “You aren’t using your wand, is it innate?”

Tonks laughed happily, her hair lighting up in the colours of cheap, hard candy. “Why, yes! It’s innate. I’m a _Metamorphmagus_. Got me a hell lot of slack in Defence Against the Dark Arts, obviously. I’m perfect Auror material, though I’m probably shitter at spells than anyone else in this cottage.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “That’s…” He shook his head, unable to keep the awe from his expression. “That’s so _cool!”_

 “I don’t believe I have ever heard Raito-kun use such a term before.” L shuffled into the room in his old ratty sneakers, wearing someone else’s maroon sweater over dark jeans, his newly-washed black hair hanging into his enormous black eyes. Light suppressed his urge to lean over and smell the other man, it had been quite a while since he had showered. He settled for watching him as he yanked out a chair and sat, drawing his legs up and pressing them against his chest.

Light gestured wildly to the woman. “Yeah, well, look! She can change her appearance at will, just like that! If that isn’t cool, I don’t know what is. Just imagine the implications…!” He chattered excitedly as L cocked his head, studying her carefully.

“At will, you say?” L sounded thoughtful. Tonks grinned. “Yep!” She proceeded to grow her ears into miniature flags she flapped at the delighted Light. L bit his lip, his eyes darting to the table and finding a single overripe strawberry tossed from a past baking expedition. He snatched it up, nibbling into it. “So you can change your entire appearance into that of another person?”

“Yeah, I can.”

Light wrung his hands together. “What about animals? Can you turn into other species?”

Tonks looked a little baffled. “I haven’t actually ever tried. I suppose I could, it doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility. I don’t want to try it now, though.” She patted her round belly. “Cake in the oven.”

L’s head snapped around the kitchen. “Cake? Where?”

Light burst into laughter. “Damn it, Ryuuzaki.” He put an arm around his skeletal shoulders and pulled him into a quick hug. “You’re so damn predictable, I expected you to say exactly that.”

The detective was blinking rapidly as Light let go of him and turned back to Tonks. “What else can you do?”

Fleur swished into the room again, holding an empty bag in one hand and a curling list in the other. “Ah, Mr. Ryuuzaki, you’re out of the shower. Good thing, we need to leave as soon as possible, the Turner twins are getting quite agitated up there. They will move soon, I am guessing.” She addressed most of that to Tonks, who shrugged.

“It’s their choice.”

Fleur nodded. “I suppose it is best they stay with their families. They would be worried for their safety if they holed up here all winter.”

“Hell, it’s not like they’ll stop worrying about their safety if they get there.”

Fleur wrinkled up her perfect nose. “It would be better. Imagine how it would feel if you and Remus were separated.” The willowy woman turned to Light. “Meet me outside in five minutes, we shall apparate to Whitlock Street. Diagon Alley is just too dangerous these days, even with Aberforth’s help. Put these robes on.” She glided out of the room, grabbing one of the many black hooded robes hanging on the coat rack. Tonks stared after her, then morphed her face into a near-identical model of Fleur’s, sticking her perfectly arced nose in the air.

“Ooh, it’s so dangerous out on Diagon Alley.” Tonks sighed in an exaggerated falsetto. Light broke into a grin, though L seemed highly unimpressed.

“You do not appear to be using your powers for any real purpose, Mrs. Tonks.”

Light darted a glance at him, peeved. L could mentally hear him nagging him to play along, be more friendly, do _something_ other than sulk and contemplate, but luckily Tonks was hardly offended.

“Nah, I used to be an Auror before You-Know-Who took over the ministry. You’re right, at this moment I’m not really using my powers for anything. Cake in the oven, remember?”

L flinched. “I wish you would stop referring to it as such.”

“Why? You hungry?” Tonks teased, and Light laughed much louder than he needed to.

“Oh, you have no idea.” The teenager chuckled, rising up out of his chair and ambling over to the coat rack. “Come on, Ryuuzaki. We should get going. It was really nice meeting you, Tonks.”

“Likewise, Light.” The witch’s hair suddenly shortened into an auburn mop that settled over her eyes in a fringe. Light let out a startled breath, his hand going to ruffle his own red-brown hair. He chuckled in that strangely merry way as he pulled a robe from the rack and slid it on, walking out the way Fleur had gone.

L followed him, trying to straighten his back as much as he could so that the robe fitted well on his thin body. His scoliosis was bad, which made him quite recognisable. Light smirked as he watched the older man tie on his robe, playfully yanking the hood over his wild black hair. The detective snatched the hood from him resentfully.

Light gave him a sarcastic smile. “Are you angry with me again? What did I do this time?”

L pressed his lips together. “It’s nothing, don’t let it bother you.”

“What?” Light blinked, surprised. “Are you actually angry with me?”

“No, no. I am just…irritable due to the lack of sweets in my system.”

Light squinted at him. “Could you please just spit it out, Ryuuzaki?”

L sighed.

“You…you just…”

“What?”

“You’re so _fake.”_

Light’s eyebrows drew down as he narrowed his eyes, studying him.

“You just…you make me wonder if you’re a sociopath, if you can _actually_ make friends with anybody. Everything you say is a lie, you’re just playing along, making them like you. Why do you do that? It’s not like you’re naturally unpleasant.” He mused. “Unless how you act with me is also an act. It would make sense with your track record.”

L waited for a response, but he got none. Light was silent as they walked into the field. They spotted Fleur standing a couple metres away, talking to a man in a green t-shirt and sweatpants, who seemed more nervous than the situation warranted, gesturing madly with both hands as Fleur crossed her arms, unimpressed.

L darted glances at Light throughout their short walk there, but the teenager had closed off, his fringe hiding his eyes. L grew a nervous knot in his stomach. Why would he shut himself off if he had nothing to hide?

Was it actually an act? Had he been _right?_

He had only been speculating (or, rather, venting his own frustration with his social incompetence), it was a possibility he had never seriously considered. If Light had been acting with him, if his true personality was not what he showed L, he would have had to be an actor of inhuman talent, it was near impossible. But why else would Light refuse to show his reaction to L’s theory?

“Raito-kun?” He mumbled, the knot tightening. The boy did not respond, but before he could prod further, Fleur spotted them, waving them over, and the Raito-kun he had been talking to was gone, replaced by the cheerful stranger he was growing more and more afraid of.

“Hey, Fleur.” Light acknowledged, trotting over to her and the agitated man (presumably one half of the Turner twins).

“We’re going to apparate to Whitlock Street. Have you ever apparated before?” The blond woman straightened the robe Light had thrown on. “Put your hood on, we can’t afford for people to take notice of you.”

“No, I’ve never apparated before.” Light said as he pulled his hood over his face. Fleur cast a cursory glance at L, who tugged his own hood down over his eyes.

“It’s simple, and I’m good at it, so it won’t be a problem.” Fleur said to Light (and exclusively to Light. She hardly bothered with L, he noticed). “Just hold my hand and blank your mind. Visualise nothing. And for God’s sake, do not think about a place.”

L quirked his lips. “Do not think of a pink elephant.” He smiled at Light, but the teenager was still ignoring him.

“What happens if we think of a place? Do we get lost?”

“No, you get splinched. A part of you gets left behind here, while the rest of you goes where I tell it to.” Fleur shuddered. “Gabrielle lost the sleeve of her robe once. I hear Ron just lost his fingernails when he disapparated from Potter. Now come on.” She took Light’s hand in hers, squeezing it tightly. “Come on, Mr. Ryuuzaki.”

L hesitantly took Fleur’s other hand, soft and tiny in his own. _Splinched?_ But before he had the time to comprehend exactly what that meant for him, he felt himself being ripped out of the meadow in a dizzying swirl, collapsing to his knees beside a garbage can in a busy city street.

“Whoa.” He heard Light breathe. “Whitlock Street.”

Fleur giggled. “It’s nothing to marvel at. Diagon Alley is far better, though nowadays highly populated by the Hungry Ones. None of them compare to the _Rue Ètincelante_ in Paris, of course. Now _that_ is a brilliant little street.”

“Hungry Ones?”

Fleur leaned in to whisper in the brunet’s ear, but it was so loud that L was very much privy to it. “Don’t refer to them as Death Eaters in public, it draws attention.” She straightened up, pulling her hood over her face. “Well, now, follow me. We shall get your wands once I’ve finished shopping for supplies.”

Light smirked. “Hungry Ones. Imaginative.” Fleur tossed him a grin, gliding away into the crowds. Light surged forward to keep up with her, not sparing a second glance at L, who waited a few moments in his place, defiant, before running to catch up with them. The annoyance pumping through his veins was starting to feel familiar, now, which wasn’t a good thing. He didn’t want to be a shrew, but everybody was being so _difficult_.

“Light, wait for me!” He called as he pushed through the crowds, grabbing the sleeve of the boy’s robes. It was promptly pulled out of his grasp, but Light slowed down, allowing Ryuuzaki to scurry back to him and latch onto his arm.

“Off, Ryuuzaki.” Light said shortly, jerking his arm away. L panted, looking around at the sea of human bodies they had landed in.

“It’s very crowded here, Light. I don’t want to be separated and this is the easiest way to stay connected.”

Light shrugged, apathetic. “I guess you should just try to keep up.” Fleur turned a corner, entering what looked like a grocery store. Light followed, shouldering past L, who crossed his arms and glared at the back of the brunet’s head as it disappeared behind the swinging blue shop door.

“Damn it, Light.” He muttered under his breath as he shoved the door open and stalked inside.


	10. Veela's Hair

At first, watching Fleur shop for the strangest things (cornflakes, butter and a bottle of frog’s eyes) had been fun, but Light was slowly realising that shopping was shopping no matter which world they were in.

Light himself was no one to talk, he was a fan of expensive clothing that flattered his features, but grocery shopping was the most mind-numbing activity he could possibly be doing in a world where portraits spoke and Dark wizards enslaved nations.

Fleur noticed his unending pain and nudged him gently. “Only a few more items, don’t worry.” She chuckled. “You’re such a cutie pie.”

Light flushed. A cutie pie he definitely was not (unless the world’s most successful mass murderer could be cute). It made him think: did he actually act differently without knowing it? Why would Fleur think he was adorable if he actually wasn’t? He definitely wasn’t trying to be adorable.

Of course, he did lie and act often (maybe too often), but it was always harmless. Everyone acted in public, it was an essential part of creating an image. L was the one lacking social skills, of course he wouldn’t understand.

Light grimaced. Fuck L. _It would make sense with your track record._ Trust L to bring Kira into everything. He _wished_ how he acted with L was an elaborate charade, he wished the detective hadn’t broken through his shell ages ago and laid him open and vulnerable in front of him, ready to step on whenever he wanted to.

But then, maybe it was for the best. Maybe he _should_ put on an act, there was no reason to be genuine anyway. It wasn’t as if the detective trusted him any more for it.

_So melodramatic_. Light chuckled. He was such a drama queen inside his head. Okay, so he needed to make sure to be less genuine in front of the detective, no big deal. He didn’t have to make a fuss out of it. It could be a smooth transition, easy enough. Friends were best kept at a distance anyway.

“Lost in thought, Light?” Fleur sang as she placed a few gold coins (gold coins! If he had had a little less dignity, he would have scooped one of them up and bitten them) on the counter and gathered her groceries in a bag.

Light shrugged. “I guess so.” He smiled at her when she straightened his hood over his head and stepped gracefully out of the store.

“What were you thinking about?” She queried, looking over her shoulder to check if L was keeping up. Light didn’t bother looking. If he got lost, he had only himself to blame.

“Wands.” Light said with a grin. “Tonks told me to get one with a dragon heartstring core, apparently they’re the best kind.”

“Oh, no, the best kind is the one with Veela’s hair, like mine.” Fleur twirled her slim oaken wand between her fingers. “It’s my grandmother’s hair, you know. I’m part Veela.”

Light laughed. “I don’t know what that is!”

Fleur giggled back, surprised. “Veelas are magical creatures that are the most beautiful women in the world. My grandmother is absolutely stunning, more beautiful than I am!”

Light winked. “I find that hard to believe.” He saw L stiffen behind them out the corner of his eye.

“Oh, you wouldn’t, if you ever see her. You would probably try to marry her then and there, though she would maul you if you tried.”

“Nice to see I’d be appreciated.” Light flicked the hair out of his eyes, and could clearly see Fleur checking him out. He liked her, he knew she didn’t have any intention of going beyond flirting with him (she was happily married, after all) so they could play this little game to amuse themselves.

“Now that I think about it, I believe you might just be appreciated. My grandmother has a thing for pretty boys.” She purred. “Well, we’re here. The great black market. Come with me. You distract the shopkeeper, I’ll take the wands. I’ll make sure to get a nice collection. Mr. Ryuuzaki, stay outside and mind the shopping bags.”

Light had the pleasure of watching L’s face transform from impassivity to indignant suspicion. “I would prefer to-”

“Come on, Fleur.” Light touched her shoulder, darting a glance at L to savour in the hurt that overtook the rest of his expression. _Good, maybe he’ll feel how I felt-_

Light rolled his eyes. Again, overdramatic. He wasn’t hurt by what L said, he was just…realising what L actually thought of him. He had guessed wrong about the man’s feelings for him, and it was the fact that he was wrong that was pricking him, not what he had been wrong about.

Why was he thinking so much about this?

Inside, the squat little shop was little more than a hole in the wall, a counter with a single grizzly old man behind it taking up most of the room. Fleur smiled charmingly at him. “Hello, Oswald. Do you have any books for sale?”

Oswald groaned. “Ugh, Miss Mortaile, don’t tell me you’re going to make me get off of my chair. I literally just sat down.”

“Come now, Oswald. Chop-chop. My friend here wants to see your latest.”

Oswald rose out of his chair, grumbling, sweeping his hand over the wall behind him. The wall collapsed, revealing thousands of magical items: robes of every colour (mostly black, though), heavy yellowed books, wands of every colour and size hanging from hooks in the wall, shimmering potions in tiny glass vials and three barn owls sitting peacefully inside iron cages, pecking at their speckled feathers. “This way for your books.” He drawled in an aggressively bored monotone, leading Light towards the old, leaning stack.

Light was fascinated despite himself. He had always loved books (obviously) and these were the most fascinating he had ever seen. He picked up the topmost one, opening it up and running a finger over the silvered illustration.

Quickly, remembering that he had to distract the shopkeeper, he thought up the name of one of the books he had seen in the room he had been locked in the previous night. “Do you have Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them by Newt Scamander?”

Oswald frowned. “That’s a textbook. Miss Mortaile is shopping for textbooks?”

“I’m shopping for textbooks. My brother lost his copy in Hogwarts, so I’m getting him a replacement.”

The grizzled shopkeeper’s eyes lit up. “Hogwarts? Lovely! What year is he in?”

“Oh, he’s in the second year. He loves it there.” Light smiled tightly, flipping through another book.

“Second year, wonderful. Which House was he Sorted into?”

Light blanked. _House?_ He turned his gaze firmly to the book in his hands, studying the illustration of the hooded man chopping off an elf’s misshapen hooked nose. _Was this a book on medicine?_ “He…prefers not to say.” Light muttered, checking the name on the cover. _The History of Magical Medicine._ They chopped off noses as treatment?

“Ah.” The squat man nodded understandingly. “A Gryffindor, then. My sympathies.”

It clicked then. Longbottom had talked about Slytherins hexing Gryffindors and muggle-borns, so it was safe to assume Slytherins didn’t like Gryffindors. It was also safe to assume that Oswald here agreed with that sentiment. “Yes, we’re a family of Slytherins, ourselves. We don’t like to discuss his Sorting.”

“Ah, that’s terrible for you. Terrible. I have your textbook right here.” The shopkeeper reached into the pile, pulling out a thick hardbound book with the picture of a griffin on the cover. “Fantastic Beasts by Newt Scamander. Tell your brother to keep his head low and priorities straight. Gryffindors these days are being too reckless.”

Light inclined his head. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him.” He glimpsed over at Fleur, who gave him a thumbs up. “I’ll buy this, then. How much is it?”

“Six galleons.”

Fleur came over, handing him the money. “Thank you, Oswald.”

Oswald leered. “Great doing business with you, Miss Mortaile!”

Fleur smirked, leading the way outside, the door swinging shut behind them. Her smile immediately dropped and she suppressed a shudder. “The disgusting man has had a crush on me for ages. It’s why I steal from there.”

Light patted her shoulder sympathetically. “Being part-Veela isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, then.” Fleur snorted.

Light glanced around, looking for L, who was no longer standing in front of the shop. “Where’s Ryuuzaki?”

There was a sudden jostling in the alleyway to the right of the shop, and a pale man with wilder hair than usual emerged from a crouch behind a garbage disposal unit, shuffling over to them. Light gaped at him.

“What on Earth were you doing there?”

L gave him his usual vacant look, eyes hooded and unreadable. “What do you care?”

Fleur waved her hands in front of them. “Time for talking later, we need to get out of here. Mr. Ryuuzaki, would you mind picking up the bags?”

The older man’s jaw tightened, but he complied, slinging the bags over his elbow and seizing her hand. Light took her other hand, and just like that, their legs were no longer touching the sidewalk. They stumbled onto the grassy field outside Shell Cottage, and Fleur was laughing. “That was so much fun! You did such a good job, Light. How did you know so much about Hogwarts if you’ve never attended?”

Light chuckled. “I don’t know anything about Hogwarts, really, I only used what I overheard from Mr. Longbottom back when he found us.”

Fleur clapped her hands together. “Well, that was brilliant, then! You’re very smart, you know. Now come on, let’s test out some wands.” She looked around. “Where did Mr. Ryuuzaki go?”

Light spun around, finding L stalking off towards the cottage, his hands stuck in his pockets and his hunch bowing his head forward. The boy pursed his lips as the other man banged the door open and disappeared inside. Snubbing the detective didn’t feel like justice anymore. Light had a sudden impulse to rush over and apologise.

“We can test the wands inside, then.” Fleur said softly, her eyes fixed on Light.


	11. Dragon Heartstring

As L re-entered the cottage fuming (he had never been so humiliated in his life! Baggage boy, they made him their baggage boy, their concierge, their fucking assistant. He was three of the greatest detectives in the world! Three of them! He didn’t get treated like the slave of two flirting _children_ ), he passed Ron, who was sitting at the dining table and drinking a cup of tea. His eyes were red and puffy, as if he had been crying every minute since he got here.

Time to show Raito-kun that he was of some use after all. “Hello, Ron.”

Ron looked up from his tea. “Oh, hello. I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Ryuuzaki.” He said, taking the seat opposite to him.

Ron gulped down the rest of his tea. “Yep, I’m not going to be able to pronounce that.”

“Fine, then you may call me L.” It didn’t mean anything here anyway.

Ron blinked. “How did you go from Ray-ooh-whatever to L? What’s your last name?”

L was starting to lose his patience _, what a pointless conversation,_ but humoured him. After all, he was trying to be useful here. “My first name is Rue. My last name is Ryuuzaki. L is my nickname.”

The kitchen door opened, letting in a wind-tousled Light and a primly perfect Fleur. Ron nodded at the two of them, turning back to L. “So if both your names start with an R, why L? How does that make any sense?”

Light smirked, propping himself casually against the kitchen counter. “Oh, no, it does make sense. L stands for Loser.” Light made an L shape with his index finger and thumb, holding it up near his forehead. _“Loser.”_ He stage-whispered, giving L an infuriating smile.

As Ron broke into a guffaw at L’s expression, the detective stood up, his chair sliding back as he flounced out of the room. Light caught his arm as he passed him, pulling him back. “Chill out, Ryuuzaki. We’ve got to pick out our wands from Fleur’s stash.”

L pulled his arm from his grasp. “Why don’t you just pick out the lousiest one for me? It seems that’s all I’m worth anyway. Oh, there’s another L word for you, _lousy_.” He stormed upstairs to the room they had been locked in last night.

“Ryuuzaki, I was joking! I’m sorry, okay? Come back!” Light yelled after him. When there was no response, he rolled his eyes and sighed. Fleur gave him a sympathetic look.

“He’s not feeling well, is he? Do you want to check out the wands now or later?”

Light shrugged. “Might as well. There’s no telling what mood he’ll be in later.”

Ron perked up in his seat. “You’re picking out a wand? Did you break your old one? I have a lot of experience with that.”

Fleur giggled. “No, he’s never had a wand. A muggle-born who never got his letter, I suspect.”

Light shrugged. “I’m a quick learner, I’m sure I can catch up.”

“I have no doubt of that.” Fleur asserted. “You’re impressive, alright.”

Ron curled his lip. “Fleur, wow. You’re married to my brother, can you please not?”

“What are you insinuating? Of course I know I’m married to Bill!” Fleur said indignantly, reaching into her robe and pulling out seven fine silver hairs. “Shame on you for your dirty thoughts, Ronald Weasley! I am nothing but faithful to my Billy.”

Light snickered as Fleur laid the hairs on the table and tapped them all with her wand. Quickly, they elongated and hardened until they became seven wands of varying sizes, each carved decoratively and made of a variety of fine woods. Light gaped at them, fascinated, making Fleur laugh.

“I do love watching you see magic for the first time.” She admitted. “This is called Transfiguration, we can make one thing become another for a certain amount of time. Anyway, check them out. Pick them up and attempt to cast a spell. The one that works best for you is yours. The others, we can put in storage. Extra wands are always useful in wartime.”

Hesitantly, Light picked up the first wand in line, a pale-brown fir with an ivory handle. He blinked doubtfully at it.

Ron got up out of his seat, ripping a piece of paper from a nearby newspaper. “Here.” He said, placing the chit in front of him. “Try Wingardium Leviosa.”

“What’s that?”

Ron gawked at him. “Wingardium Leviosa, you make things float where you want them to.” Light felt that bubble of excitement in his stomach again.

“How do I do it? I just point and say it?”

Ron paused, then wore a smile so sad that it confirmed to Light that the other man was thinking about his precious abandoned friends. “No. Swish and flick. Wingardium Levi-oh-sa. Not Levio- _sah._ ” He looked like he was getting ready to cry again.

Hurriedly, Light swished his wand and flicked it at the piece of paper. “Like that?”

Fleur nodded beside him, going over to squeeze Ron’s shoulder. “Yes, exactly like that, good work.”

Light took a deep breath. “Wingardium Leviosa.” He could feel the wand buzzing with energy as the piece of paper shot up to its tip, floating an inch away from him. He glanced at Fleur, who was clapping excitedly.

“Great work! I knew you were a talented wizard. Brilliant work for a first spell. Though I don’t think that is the wand for you. It doesn’t seem to like you.”

Light peered at it, eyebrows knit. “Um…how can you tell?”

Ron chuckled weakly. “You can always tell. Fred and George used to say _the right wand turns water into rum, the wrong one makes it smell like a bum._ ”

Fleur wrinkled her nose disapprovingly. “Your brothers are disgusting.”

Light placed the wand carefully down and tested the next one.

It took four more tries before he finally picked up the slim white wand with the slight kink in the centre, polished and lacking any kind of carving or handle. The minute he picked it up, the wand hummed with power, glowing silver at the tip. Fleur nodded her approval. “Aspen wood, with a Welsh Green heartstring core. Excellent. I fought a Welsh Green dragon at the Triwizard Tournament, you know.” She said proudly.

Light raised his eyebrows at her. “Dragon? You fought a dragon?”

“And won. It was _magnifique_.”

Ron nodded. “It was definitely magnifique.”

There were a lot of questions in Light’s immediate consciousness, but the wand in his hand was buzzing, fitting into his palm like it was made for it. Ron sighed. “I wish my wand bonded with me like that.”

Light shrugged. “Alright, then. Um, Wingardium Leviosa.” He swished and flicked, and felt a surge of power hum through the stick. The piece of paper floated gently, gracefully in the air, following the tip of his wand but not moving any closer than he wanted it to. He gaped, wonderstruck, flicking his wand to the side. The paper flew along with the line of his wand. He drew circles, swishing his wand from side to side, throwing the piece of paper up the walls, practically hypnotised by the weirdness of the whole situation. He was performing _magic_. This was more awesome than the time he had petrified Fleur and Bill. Back then, he had had no control, really, he was acting on instinct and copying what Fleur had been trying on him and L.

Here, he was completely in control, and it felt brilliant. Was the Death Note piece stuck on him giving him this power, or was it innate? He would have to test it soon.

“Give me another spell.”

Ron shrugged. “Accio? That’s the spell Harry used to defeat his dragon.”

“How do I use it?”

Fleur simulated flicking a wand in a wide arc. “Say _Accio_ , then the name of the thing you want to summon. Remember to focus on the thing you want.”

Light twirled his wand in an arc. “Accio piece of paper.” The chit obediently zipped towards him, landing in the palm of his hand.

Light grinned. “Awesome. What all can it summon? Anything?”

Fleur shrugged. “Anything.”

“What about people?”

Ron widened his eyes. “Are you crazy? Don’t summon people, you could hurt them! Plus, it would take an bleeding amount of power to summon something that huge.”

“So the power depends on how large the object is? How much power would this wand have?”

Fleur mused. “According to my course in wandlore, the aspen wand is great for duelling and martial arts. It should have a great amount of power. And, of course, dragon heartstring is known to be the most powerful kind of core. It’s long, too, so it’s likely to be consistent. It’s a very nice wand.”

“So, how powerful would that be? Could I summon…a tree?”

Ron gaped at him. “Are you suicidal? You’re acting like a fucking Ravenclaw, and you know what they say about Ravenclaws. I’ll give you a hint, _they’re all bleeding insane.”_

Fleur shushed him. “Shut up, Ron. We don’t know how powerful your wand is, Light. You can only find out by testing it out. I could train you for battle. I feel like you’d be really good at formal duels.”

“I’d love that.” Light said, flicking his wand. It shivered in his hand, and a nearby bottle of brandy burst, spraying glass everywhere. “Oh, crap, I’m so sorry!”

Ron guffawed. “I was the exact same with my new wand. Burst everything from here to Hogwarts.”

Fleur shook her head. _“Reparo.”_ The shards of the bottle quietly zipped back to their original places, rejoining into its original shape, but the brandy itself stayed on the floor. “I need to go check on the Turners, now. Don’t go burning the cottage down.”

As soon as Fleur left the room, Light turned to Ron, grinning. “What’s the spell to burn something down?”

“Incendio.” Ron said, his own smile filling his face. “Don’t burn anything important, this is my brother’s cottage.”

“No worries, I can just use a Reparo and it’ll be good as new. Also, stick around. I’ll need your help.”

“Hey, no, it doesn’t work that way…where are you going?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I just discovered the notes function! I suppose I could ask you to review, it's always fun to get reviews, but really, I don't mind either ways. I just hope you like the story so far :D   
> PS this story is pre-written, and I'm almost done! It's about 50 chapters long. Just thought I should mention it at some point that this story is guaranteed to be finished XD hope you guys stick with it!


	12. Phoenix Belly Feather

L sat on the bed, studying the piece of the Death Note that had been taped on his stomach, trying to figure out what gave it the power to bestow magical protection on a person. It was an object of death, why would it protect someone from death?

He ran a finger over the smooth page. It killed people from a distance, it had the ability to control minds and cause fatal accidents out of nothing. Perhaps…perhaps magic was made of the same substance that allowed the Death Note to control fate. After all, they were both breaking the laws of nature. Touching the note gave them the power to break physics as well, which explained how Light was able to petrify the two attackers back in Hagrid’s hut.

It was truly fascinating. He wished he could learn more about its actual composition, but he knew the thing was beyond science. He shouldn’t rationalise something that breaks the laws of reason.

He heard sounds coming from behind his closed door, so he hurriedly re-taped the chit back on his stomach, rolling the tape back to its usual secure position, waiting for his distraction to move past his door so that he could continue to brood.

Unfortunately, his doorknob turned, and a certain auburn head stuck in, giving him the perkiest smile he had ever seen. “Hey, Ryuuzaki, what’re you doing back here?”

L rolled his eyes, his hands itching for his laptop. Opening up his laptop and typing away had been how he had made Light aware he was ignoring him back when they had been handcuffed together. Here, in this godforsaken world, all L could do was defiantly turn his head towards the window and fix his gaze on a passing cloud.

He couldn’t keep his attention on the clouds for long, though. Not while there was that warm, sweeter-than-sweet smell coming from somewhere down the hallway. Light’s smirk was so mischievous it was driving L crazy. He was acting his own age for once, like a real nineteen year old, childish, playful, _adorable_. It was like all of the pretence and dignity he had adopted back in their own world was just gone, as if the magical world was bringing out something new in him.

“Are you still angry with me, Ryuuzaki?” The teenager asked wryly.

And it could all be an act. It could all be faked.

L hoped with all his heart that it was real. Discovering these new sides of Light was captivating, it made him feel warmer inside than any cake could possibly accomplish.

Cake. _Cake_.

It smelled like cake.

L jumped to his feet, his eyes wider than tennis balls. “Cake.” He said in a hushed tone. “I smell cake.” He rushed towards the doorway, but Light caught him by the shoulders.

“Wait up, Ryuuzaki. You don’t get your cake until I get my apology.”

 _“Apology?”_ L twisted out of the boy’s grip, sprinting down the stairs towards the kitchen. Light stared, open-mouthed after him, then bounded down, diving to attempt (and miss) a grab at his sweatshirt. “L, come on, I worked really hard on that! I deserve a reward!”

In the kitchen, sitting proudly on the kitchen table sat a rudimentary barely-stuck-together cake. Ron looked uncharacteristically content (L had never seen him this far from tears), sitting at the table and digging into his own slice.

“ _Merlin’s bleeding toenails_ , Light, it’s edible! I’m not going to say it’s good, because it’s not, but bloody hell, I’ve never done anything that complex in my whole life, and that includes all the weird stuff Hermione made me practice for my OWLS.”

L looked back at Light, who was leaning against the wall with his hands stuck in his pockets, feeling his cheeks warm. He was touched, immensely touched.

“How did you make this? I don’t see an oven anywhere, or even a stove.” L asked faintly. In answer, Light pulled a slightly bent ivory-coloured stick from where it was stuck in his pocket, wiggling it between his fingers.

“I can do magic now. Making the cake was practice, kind of. I learnt a lot of spells from Ron. Reducto, Geminio, Reparifarge, Incendio-oh shit.” The stick in Light’s hand shot out a quick burst of air, and the corner of the wall opposite to him caught fire. L stared as Light fumbled with his wand and pointed it straight at the burning patch. “Aguamenti!” A stream of water rushed out of the wand, jetting at the fire and putting it straight out. Ron applauded.

“My first teaching attempt is a bleeding _success_ , if only Hermione could see me now. You know, you’re kind of exactly like her, Light. The student every teacher hopes for.”

At a loss of what to say, all L could do was nod. “I agree.” He murmured under his breath. Light gave him an ironical little smile and twirled his wand.

“Well, I was always good at chemistry.”

“You are good at everything, Raito-kun.” L said dismissively, sitting across from Ron at the table and cutting into the cake. Oh, cake, he could write a love song to cake at this moment. It smelled so sweet, all his brain needed was something sweet…

He bit into the cake and it tasted like mush.

He almost spat it out before the sweetness hit his tongue all in one shot, like a bullet had been fired inside it. He gagged, forcing it down, but he was already reaching for another bite. _Damn these sugar cravings!_

“Bloody hell, is he alright? He looks like he’s going to be sick.”

L let out a splutter. “I take it back, Raito-kun. You are most certainly not good at everything.”

Light looked horribly offended. “Wow. Thanks, Ryuuzaki. I’ll never make you cake again.”

L shook his head in disgust, reaching for another piece. Ron stared incredulously. “Why is he taking another piece if he doesn’t like it?”

L could barely speak. The sugar tasted absolutely horrifying, but it was sugar, and it was increasing his mental functioning by ten percent with every bite.

“Don’t ask. He’s just a drama queen.” Light glowered at him.

L choked down another mouthful of cake, darting glances at Light. “Raito-kun, don’t be upset.”

“Yeah, Light, I mean, it’s your first try. Cut yourself some slack.” Ron supported, picking at his own piece with a fork. “At least it looks like a cake. If I tried to make something in my first year, it would probably have exploded all over me, or transformed into slugs or some bloody thing.”

Light shrugged sulkily, and L couldn’t help his snort of laughter. “Raito-kun is such a child.”

“I am not a-” Light thought better of that line of argument. “Well, you’re a child too. Look at you, can’t function twenty-four hours without sugar. You’re going to get diabetic if you ask me.”

“I have a very fast metabolism. My chances of acquiring type-2 diabetes is lower than most.” He said through another mouthful of semi-solid cake. Ron started to look a bit queasy, giving up on his own slice. It was starting to grow on L, though. It resembled a few exotic sweet dishes he had tried when Watari had been in an adventurous mood.

Light crossed his arms. “Well, I still think-”

“Raito-kun, can we abandon this argument? It is quite pointless. I wish to see the wands, are they still around?”

“Yeah, they’re right here.” Ron scurried to the pantry and hunted behind a plastic bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, drawing out a neatly packaged set of six wands, tied together meticulously with a bit of string – obviously Light’s work. He placed them in front of L, beside his cake plate, and untied the string.

“Six wands. What is my criteria for choice?”

Light smirked, though L could sense the teenager was still displeased with him. “Apparently, the wand chooses you.”

L gave him a withering look. “Really, Raito-kun.”

“Hey, I didn’t make it up, Fleur said it.”

Ron raised his index finger. “Actually, Ollivander the famous wand-maker said it.”

“Raito-kun, I’m sure you know exactly what criteria differentiates them and are just withholding them from me to test me. They are all different sizes and thickness, and are made of different woods.” L picked one up, noticing a label tied around their bases. “They appear to be classified as well. ‘Cypress with Unicorn Hair.’ The wood is cypress. Does it contain a unicorn’s hair within it?”

Ron nodded as Light’s face twisted in amusement. “Its core is unicorn hair.”

“And how does unicorn hair differ from a…Hungarian Horntail heartstring?”

Light smiled. “According to Fleur, it’s less powerful, but more sophisticated, consistent and loyal.”

“And the Hungarian Horntail?”

Ron flinched. “Just call it a dragon, will you? It’s not like the kind of dragon makes a difference.”

Light gestured to the wands. “Dragon heartstring is the most powerful, but also the least loyal and least consistent. I believe Fleur used the word ‘temperamental’ to describe it.”

L glanced at Light’s slim white wand. “Let me guess, yours is a dragon heartstring?”

Light rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t depend on the owner’s personality.”

“I believe it does, actually. Fifty-seven percent sure. Here’s another kind of core: phoenix belly feather.”

Light studied the wand in L’s hand, a long, lean red-brown wand that stood obscenely straight, especially compared to Light’s own slightly bent wand. The minute L had picked it up, it glowed a faint burnt-red. “Phoenix feather is supposed to be independent, and detached, whatever that means, and has a wide variety of magic. It also has a tendency to act on its own.”

L was staring at the wand, now. “And the wood? Walnut, I see. Does it have any significance?”

Light nodded. “Yeah, but Fleur didn’t really elaborate on that. I know mine is meant for duelling, and it’s supposed to be for determined revolutionary-types. Walnut, I think she said something about high intelligence and adaptability.”

L grinned. “Yours is definitely perfect for you. _Revolutionary type_. As for mine, I strongly suspect that it is this one. May I test it by performing a spell? Is that dangerous?”

Light shrugged. “Go for it. I tried Wingardium Leviosa and-” He yelped, jumping out of the way of L’s quiet “Aguamenti.” The strong stream of water was steady and clear, and showed no signs of stopping.

“Cut it out, Ryuuzaki!” He laughed. “Seriously.”

“I don’t know how to stop it!” L dropped the wand, which, once out of his hand, cut itself off promptly.

He picked it back up, and Ron nodded. “Yep, I’m pretty sure it picked you.”

“How could you possibly know that? It is a piece of wood.” L squinted suspiciously at him. “Can you talk to wands?”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “You sound like you’re making fun of me.”

L raised his eyebrows high into his thick black fringe, opting not to reply. Light decided to save the situation. “No, it’s more about the fact that it behaves in your hand. Try the others, they’re not going to perform as well.”

L nodded. “Makes sense. Well, that was quite fun. May I invite Raito-kun to show me the spells he has learnt once I have finished my cake? We may need to test out certain capabilities.” _Of the Death Note_ went unsaid. Light seemed to understand.

“Sure, I’ll wait in the room. Call me when you’re done.”

Ron wrung his hands where he sat. “Guys, um. Can I hang out too? I…don’t have much to do in the cottage and…I’d really like to keep busy.”

L stared blankly. “No, actually-”

Light smiled charmingly at the wizard. “Sure, no problem. We’ll be glad to have you around, you could probably teach us more spells.”

Ron beamed. “I’d be glad to! Thanks, Light.”

Light shrugged, waving it off. “Don’t mention it.” He retreated up the stairs back to his room.

The wand in L’s hand let out a tiny burst of crimson sparks and at that exact moment, a couple hundred miles away, a boy with a lightning-bolt scar writhed in his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celebratory chapter! I've finally finished the climax of the story, and I love it so much (though I have to edit it and stuff, it's still a huge step! XD) Soon enough the story will be done and I can't wait. I think I'll post a chapter every two days, but what do you guys think? 
> 
> Thanks for reading and leave a kudos if you like it! Or a bookmark or whatever works really I'm not very familiar with these controls haha


	13. Lord Voldemort

The Dark Lord of the Wizarding World wished he had never made the Horcruxes so that he could just kill himself.

That was a joke. The Lord Voldemort did not seriously think about dying, unless it was about how to avoid it. He was a coward that way, he wasn’t afraid to admit it. Some people (Gryffindors, like _Dumbledore_ ) took such offence when a person admitted to being a coward and didn’t want to do anything about it, but look where they were now.

Hah! The Lord Voldemort smiled in that venomous, snakelike manner he had been perfecting ever since he first rose to power in what _they_ called the First Wizarding War, and what _he_ called the First Reign of Voldemort (this being the second of both, of course).

“Why are you smiling like a weirdo stalker?” The high screeching voice with the jarringly thick Japanese accent broke up his thought process, putting all the immense knowledge he had of the Dark Arts to the forefront of his mind. “Did you think of a plan to find him? _Find him! Use your magic!”_

The Lord Voldemort had dealt with several Death Eaters of several levels of aggravating, but he hadn’t appreciated them enough, because _this_ was the true meaning of irritation. He wondered what kept her alive, if she had horcruxes too or if she could be killed with a simple Avada Kedavra…

The lanky white monster gave him a sharp look through her one yellow eye, her dreadlocks and single dangling gold earring shifting with the wind that came in through his elaborately carved window (the Lord Voldemort would settle for nothing less than elaborate).

No, she had something better than Horcruxes, she had a guardian angel. What was it the monster had said? “It was a God of Death who gave you your gift, and if you harm my human, it will be a God of Death who takes it away.” Liars and cheats, the lot of them. He had won his Horcruxes through hard work and determination, and this blond idiot was going to take it away because she made friends with the Death God she had summoned. It wasn’t fair. If the idea had occurred to him, he would have made friends with Ryuk as well. Perhaps the Death God would protect him from death as well if he managed to please it enough.

The Lord Voldemort spared a glance to the feathery being in his black leather outfit and the creepy too-wide grin splitting his face. No, that wasn’t likely. Rem was a better Death God than Ryuk. If only he had had the fortune to summon her when he had committed the sacrifices. He was sure he could have had her wrapped around his little finger, much like the Death Eaters he had seduced in his first few years as the Dark Lord.

He turned to the tiny blond girl in slow motion, his robes rustling fluidly around his skeletal white body, Nagini slithering lazily under his feet as he floated a few inches above the ground. All his followers bowed reverently, duly intimidated, but the blond girl only crossed her arms, pouting sulkily.

“You appear to be making too many demands, Misa Amane of the Other Dimension.”

The girl stuck out her lip. “You said you’ll find him soon! Keep your promise!”

“Misa Amane, I do not understand why you doubt my capabilities. I have shown you the magnificent extent of my powers, and the influence I have over the British Ministry of Magic. I assure you that my Death Eaters are out searching for the weapon even as we speak.”

Misa gave him a suspicious look. “Don’t call him a weapon! He’s my boyfriend, and the minute you find him Misa-Misa is taking him home!”

The Lord Voldemort narrowed his red eyes, his catlike pupils looking more than menacing in the half-light of the evening.

“That was not our deal, Death God Rem.” He rose to her eye-level, giving her his most terrifying glare, his fingers wrapped around the knotted stem of Lucius Malfoy’s wand. “We have made a deal, and I expect you to honour the deal, or else I will destroy it.” The Lord gave her a meaningful look.

Rem sighed, looking down at her blond companion. “Misa…”

“Yeah, yeah, Misa knows, for her own protection. Magic users can torture Misa and her Light in several ways, Misa understands.”

“Then you will honour the pact.” Lord Voldemort said in a deeply dramatic voice, his borrowed wand glowing green at the tip. Rem glared at him, stepping in front of Misa.

“Yes, Misa will honour the pact. Ugh.” The girl rolled her eyes ( _rolled her eyes!_ She was so lucky she had a Death God protecting her; the minute she did something to displease Rem, Voldemort would be waiting with a handy little _Avada Kedavra_ , he swore to God). “But don’t call him a weapon, he is my Light.”

The Dark Lord floated back down to ground level, and Nagini hissed, slithering around his feet and tasting the air with her tongue. “He is little more than a weapon to me at this moment. In due time, I shall forge a pact with him as well. The owners of the Death Notes are all allies of mine. Our purpose is the same, after all: dominance over the lesser beings. I believe your lover and I may have similar ideals. You do not need to fear treachery from me.”

Rem nodded. “I thank you for your cooperation, Tom Riddle.”

The Lord raised his nonexistent eyebrows. “You will refer to me as the Dark Lord, Rem.”

Harry Potter jerked awake, his scar burning as he mumbled to anyone for help. His vision was blurred, his forehead felt swollen and stinging sharply, his mouth was dry and he could remember everything. He was in the Dark Lord’s head, he was seeing the world through his eyes, and he had just seen what appeared to be the worst news possible for their side of the War.

“Hermione!” He rasped, flailing about. _“Hermione!”_ The slim girl appeared as a bushy brown mass in his blurred vision, rushing to his aid and placing his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, Harry, are you alright? You don’t look well, did you dream about You-Know-Who again?”

Harry nodded violently, reaching out for his phoenix-feather wand. “Hermione, he’s on the move again, he isn’t even thinking about the elder wand anymore. He has a new weapon, Hermione, he has this weapon that can kill anyone by writing their name in it, they don’t have to be anywhere near him, all he needs is a name and a face. Oh, God, Hermione!” Harry was breathless, adjusting his glasses on his face and gasping. Hermione took his hands in hers, squeezing them reassuringly.

“Harry…I don’t think a weapon like that _exists_ , at least not as far as-”

“It’s not from this world! Death Gods and blond girls and this man who has the weapon…You-Know-Who doesn’t have the weapon, not yet. It’s with this man who came from another dimension, he’s lost here and Vold…You-Know-Who’s looking for him. We’re screwed, Hermione! If he finds him, we’re screwed! He could kill us right now! We don’t have a chance!”

Hermione’s brow puckered, biting her lip. “Well…we still have time, don’t we? We can find the rest of the Horcruxes. All we have left is Hufflepuff’s cup, Ravenclaw’s item and the snake. Only three more, Harry, don’t lose hope.”

Harry groaned. “It’s too much, Hermione. He left us too much to do! Ron’s right, this is _hopeless_.”

“Well, it’s all we can do! It’s all we can do, Harry, we have to keep fighting. Don’t give up!” Hermione sounded near tears. “Oh, it’s the locket! Give me the locket.” She snatched the Horcrux from around Harry’s neck, slipping it around her own. “Do you feel better now?”

Harry shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, actually. I feel a little better. We…we have to find that weapon before Vol…You-Know-Who. We have to find that guy, we can’t let him ally with the Death Eaters. If he does, we’re done.”

Hermione pursed her lips. “Do you know what he looks like?”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. “The blond girl, she had a picture of him in her necklace. Yeah, I know what he looks like, but how do we communicate with anyone? We can’t do _anything_ without blowing our cover…”

The bushy-haired girl chewed on her lip, contemplative. “Well…we definitely can’t communicate with them through owls or the Floo network, and neither of us can cast a Patronus because of the locket…we can’t communicate through any normal methods…” A smile grew on her face. “We can’t use normal methods, but there’s one method the Death Eaters always underestimate.”

Harry blinked behind his round glasses. “And that is?”

Hermione gave him a cheeky grin. “We can make a phone call.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is truly my favourite chapter. Voldemort is the best XD 
> 
> Review, rate and feedback! I love feedback!


	14. Patronus

It had been a week since they first arrived at Shell Cottage, and L had to admit that Light was much, much, much better at magic than he was.

Perhaps it was because he was the owner of the Death Note (which, they had discovered, was indeed the source of their powers. When it didn’t touch their skin, they couldn’t do magic), or perhaps it had to do with the sheer passion and energy that existed within him, but the boy barely had to flick his wand and the world obeyed his every command.

“Reducto!” Light twitched his pale aspen wand stylishly, a slight smirk on his face as the blade of grass Ron had been showing L how to levitate burst into smithereens. Both L and Ron gave Light dirty looks, but the detective sensed a sort of pride in the redhead’s demeanour. The wizard considered himself partly the reason Light was so amazing at spell-work, though that was a laughable thought. If anybody was responsible for Light’s success, it would be Light himself. When an ingenious mind had the kind of discipline that the boy had mastered, it either resulted in a brilliant world-changing entrepreneur or Kira (who, some might say, was indeed a brilliant world-changing entrepreneur, but then that was a matter of perspective).

“Aw, Light, come on. Let the guy practice, will you?” Ron gave L a sympathetic look, much to Light’s amusement.

“I mastered that spell in an hour. He’s taken _three days_.”

L rolled his eyes. “What a show-off you are, Raito-kun. It’s not like I parade my achievements in front of you.”

Light laughed condescendingly, but opted not to say anything (because he knew that if he started on that path L I-Can-Speak-Seven-Languages-And-Solved-Two-Thousand-Cases-Before-My-Twenty-Fifth-Birthday Lawliet would win). The teenager decided to retreat back into the cottage, greeting Fleur on the way. The woman was going out on another scouting expedition for the mysterious Order.

L got the impression that the Order was not very organised at all. They tried to be, but unfortunately, L decided that their leader either died, was incapacitated or had converted to the Evil side, leaving them headless and running around to pick up the pieces as best they could. He felt sorry for them, in a way. They truly seemed to be trying.

He knew Light, for one, sympathised with them. He was self-righteous to a fault, and the story of the muggle-borns being discriminated against by the big-bad-rich was right up his alley…though some would say he could swing both ways. He wasn’t particularly charitable or caring for the downtrodden, if he saw any shred of logic in the other side’s perspective (because the Order painted them as demons in disguise, L knew Light was searching for a valid argument on the other side), theoretically, he could convert in a heartbeat.

Practically, though, the teenager was becoming fast friends with both Ron and Fleur. The depressed redhead had quickly become close to Light, asking him for opinions, ideas and theories (mostly concerning horcruxes and how to find his friends). Light was surprisingly good at articulating his opinion, especially since half of the wizard’s vocabulary sounded like gibberish to the two of them. L himself was not as lucky, it would be a good day when the occupants of Shell Cottage did not consider him an antisocial freak. He spent most of his time either practicing spells with Ron or reading up on the textbooks Fleur had decorated the house with, the ones she used to study for the great and prestigious Triwizard Tournament, which, to him, did not sound very appealing (seriously, having schoolchildren participate in a deadly tournament where people were known to die…was it meant to sound appealing at all?).

Really, though, despite the fact that his personality contributed greatly to it, he knew he was being particularly antisocial _because_ Light was so friendly with everybody. He was…jealous, he knew that, and especially since Light wasn’t talking all that much to him anymore. It had been progressing ever since they came to the cottage, but it reached a peak when L had called him a sociopath on the second day. It had been five days since then, and Light was growing more and more distant from him.

He wasn’t sure what to do about that. Social situations weren’t his area of expertise, but this was Light he was talking about, _Light_ , he was supposed to understand what L meant by certain statements. He didn’t know what to do to make him understand that he had never meant to insult him. The whole sociopath theory had evolved from his fledgling jealousy rearing its head, it was all bullshit. He confirmed it every time he looked into Light’s honey brown eyes. If he had to compare them to the eyes of a sociopath, all he had to do was bring to mind Kira’s cold gaze and revel in how stupid he was to ever compare Light to the mass murderer.

 Ron was staring at him.

L shook his head, brushing his hand over his forehead and pushing up his heavy black fringe. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Ron pulled out another blade of grass. “Wingardium Leviosa the shit out of this.”

L huffed out of his nose. “This is tiresome.”

“Tell me about it. The sooner you master this, though, the sooner you can try out a Patronus. It’s the best way to communicate in wartime.”

“Can’t you just tell me how to make a Patronus right now?”

Ron guffawed. “It’s a fourth year’s spell. You’re hardly in your first week. I’m glad you and Light can pick things up so well, but it’s not easy learning magic, you know. Light couldn’t do it, anyway. I showed him yesterday, all he got was a fuzzy white mist.”

L sucked in his bottom lip. “I suppose it’s not easy, then, but I’m sure I’ll be able to cope. I have an IQ above Einstein’s; theoretically, it should be a piece of cake.”

Ron frowned. “What the bloody hell is an Einstein?”

L narrowed his eyes at the redhead, deciding he probably should change the topic. He waved his wand in front of the grass. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

It floated up, as it had all those times before, but when he attempted to take it up above the cottage, he lost track of it and it fluttered down into his hair. Ron groaned, picking it out and tossing it away.

“Can you just show me the Patronus spell? It sounds intriguing. Mr. Longbottom mentioned floating silver animals.”

Ron sighed. “Damn. Fine. Fine, just, here. You have to grip your wand like this, wave it in a spiral, like so.” He twirled his own chestnut wand in a little circle. “Focus on your happiest memory. It has to be something that makes you bloody happy, alright? It doesn’t work otherwise. Then, say Expecto Patronum.”

L mocked the movement with his tawny Walnut wand. “Expecto Patronum!”

 Nothing happened.

Ron slapped his forehead. “I told you to focus on your happiest memory, didn’t I? It doesn’t work otherwise. Just…think about the day Light proposed to you. I bet that made you pretty happy.”

L blinked. “He’s never proposed to me.”

“Sure could’ve fooled me with all the love-struck glances you give him.”

L was indignant. “Excuse me! You have no idea of the nature of-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Neither of you have made the first move. It’s kind of like me and Hermione, I guess. We only got together last year. It’s been years of fighting, and then we finally decide to date and I walk out on her like a prick. If anything happens to her…”

L crossed his arms over his knees. “If you feel so bad about leaving her, why don’t you actually spend some time looking for her? It’s been a week and all you’ve done is mope around the cottage and tutor me and Light.”

Ron’s mouth twisted as if he had sucked on a sour lemon. “I have no idea where they are. How can I even begin to search?”

L shrugged. “It isn’t my problem. I don’t particularly care.” He turned his attention back to his wand. He thought for a minute, then closed his eyes.

His happiest memories, eh? Well, he had been pretty happy when he solved his first case, a homicide he had gotten his hands on while still at Whammy’s House. He hadn’t been half as happy when he had been adopted by Whammy in the first place, he had been suspicious of the man’s intentions and didn’t really trust him. He had been overjoyed when Whammy agreed to become Watari, his faithful assistant. He had been excited when he narrowed down his search for Kira from the world to the Kanto region of Japan using Lind L Tailor (he would never have thought Light would be that careless, his pride was mind-bogglingly sensitive).

But no, Ron was right. His truly happy memories, the memories that made him feel warm inside, the ones that were of undiluted, complete happiness, he shared every one of them with Raito-kun, and that might have been sad if he didn’t have so _many_ of them.

He decided to focus on one memory: the memory of when Light finally admitted to being Kira.

It didn’t start out as a memory that could bring happiness. L was standing in the rain on the rooftop, the sky overcast and shadowing the landscape ominously. His head was filled with the sounds of bells, church bells to be exact. The same church bells that rang while Whammy led him to his new home, the same church bells that rang when his mother had died so many years ago.

The bells took over his senses, mixing up his thoughts, but it wasn’t as if he needed any sort of clarity at that moment. He was certain of everything that he had to be certain about. He knew Light Yagami was Kira, he knew he had regained his memories, he knew that even at that very moment he was plotting his demise…

And he knew that he had never felt the kind of heartache he was feeling right then, despite his lifetime of tragedy. He was looking up at the sky, letting the chilling mist of rain pour directly onto his face, analysing the pain in his chest, picking it apart, when he heard someone call out from the entranceway.

There was Light, in a long-sleeved white shirt so similar to the ones he had worn before he had his memories, his chestnut hair brushed over his eyes, looking fresh and young and healthy…and absolutely miserable, his eyes dull as his words were carried away by the whistling wind. It brought L some respite, the fact that his death would bring some sorrow to his first and best friend.

When the boy asked the detective again what he was doing on the roof by himself, he decided to play with him, tease him a little, pretending he didn’t hear him. As expected, Light’s usual reaction had been missing: the real Light would have laughed, chucked something at L or pretended not to understand him himself. This Light just frowned at him impatiently and walked into the rain, looking particularly displeased with L as he did.

Together, they stood in the rain for a while, talking about subjects that L barely remembered. The heartache was terrible with Light standing right there, pretending that they were strangers, as if the detective wasn’t going to die in the next few hours. Intuitively, he knew he was going to (and he had been proven right later, when Light had confessed).

The pain, the anger, the resentment L had bottled up against the man standing before him, the man who had replaced his Light, he wanted to throw a punch at him. He wanted to kill him then and there for hurting him this way, for allowing him to see what they could have been and then wresting it away for the sake of his delusional plan.

A sick egomaniacal murderer had taken his Raito away. He had _stolen_ him from him. L wanted to crack his knuckles against his sickeningly smug face, and the detective wasn’t used to showing restraint.

He hadn’t planned to assault him, but when both of them knew who the murderer was and the teenager _still_ insisted on lying, _still_ insisted on pretending he was Light Yagami and not Kira…

When L asked him if he had ever once told the truth in his entire life and the boy had had the insolence to _lie to his face_ …L wondered _why not?_ If he was going to die anyway, he might as well punish Kira for taking away the only person L ever saw himself being happy with.

He had thrown himself at him, going to hurt him as badly as he could, aiming for his delicate nose, his sardonic lips, his high cheekbones, his straight jaw-line, his cold, dead eyes. Those eyes that were a constant reminder of what he had lost, of who had been left in his place. He remembered screaming at the brunet, screaming that the boy would die painfully, that he would have him executed if it was the last thing he ever did, and it would have been, too. He would die before he let Kira win.

He used everything at his disposal: his feet, his fists, his fingernails, even. He had pinned the teenager down and kissed him, ravaged his mouth, before punching him across the face, splitting the boy’s lip. Blood flew in the air, and L felt feral.

He wondered how far he might have gone if he hadn’t seen Light peeking out right then, Light with his frightened coffee-coloured eyes, pupils large as he struggled against L’s grip, shouting for help, writhing and trying to protect his face without the use of his pinned hands.

Seeing Light after days of Kira, days of believing he would never see him again. _Light? Oh, my God, Light, is that you?_

L twirled his wand in a little circle. “Expecto Patronum.”

A silver ball appeared at the tip of his straight red-brown wand, growing into a misty shape a few feet in front of him. He had tunnel vision, watching the glowing ball morph into a silvery substance, elongating and streamlining until it flapped its feathery wings and trilled at the sky, flying around in a circle before it landed at his feet.

“L…” A hushed whisper came from behind him. He half-turned to see Light at the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him. “L, how are you doing that?”

 Beside him, Ron’s mouth hung open in awe. “How…? It’s only been a week…”

The magpie trilled again, cooing and fluttering onto his shoulder.

“That must be one goddamned amazing memory, if it gave you enough power to make that on your _second try.”_

Light smiled a genuinely delighted smile, and L was so thankful. “I’m jealous.”

“Perhaps you should make some good memories, then.” L smiled too, a wide, unrestrained smile that must have made him look slightly deranged.

“Perhaps I should. You’re the boss, you tell me.” And Light was _teasing_ him, playing with him the way he had never thought anyone would, the way he had thought nobody ever would again, and all L could think of was how lucky he was that he had this man in his life.

“What about you, Light? Do you want to make a Patronus, or will you take three days?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love this flashback. It's basically what I wanted to happen in the canon Death Note. Light really just deserved a whack across the face.
> 
> I'm writing the epilogue for this story right now and seeing the story end makes me way too sad, is it too early to ask if anyone would be interested in a sequel? (I guess I'll write it anyway though, obsessions don't really take anyone's opinions into consideration XD) 
> 
> Whatever, forget all that. Review if you liked this chapter or have anything to say! I love talking to you guys :D


	15. The Burrow

Chapter 15: The Burrow

It was a week until Christmas day, and the Weasley home had never been more sober.

Fred and George hadn’t turned up; they were on the run from Death Eaters (really, what did they expect, making a mockery of the Dark Lord in their joke shop?). The vile creatures had turned up at the Burrow, in fact, looking for them! It was scandalous, and Molly had been hard-pressed to jinx them then and there. It was lucky Ginny hadn’t been downstairs when they apparated there in their black robes with those skull-white masks covering their faces, demanding to see the twins. Molly had heard terrible tales of the girl’s history of jinxing in Hogwarts, especially this year. The last thing she needed was a child in Azkaban.

Molly wasn’t sure why she hadn't allowed Ginny to be taken out of school. Arthur was certainly a fan of the idea, it was practical, especially with a war on, to keep their daughter as far from Slytherins as she could, but for some reason she didn’t want to take away Ginny’s sixth year away from her. Molly remembered her own sixth year, it had been one of the best years of her life. Though the girl’s year was probably not even half as fun, she didn’t want her resigned to the Burrow, unable to help with the Order due to her age, but still not free to mingle with her friends.

Molly missed her full-house from happier years. For the past several Christmases now, there had been more people than ever. Percy, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Charlie, Fred and George…to think she had expected to see more of Bill after the wedding. The couple had disappeared into their new home in Shell Cottage, and the only times she ever got to catch a glimpse of her second oldest son was during an Order meeting. She missed him, she missed Fleur, she even missed the gloves Bill always wore ever since the werewolf attack.

She would never admit it, but she even missed the twins’ constant pranks and merry laughter. If only she could see them again, just make sure they were _alive_.

No, she was pretty sure they were alive, all she had to do was glance at the kitchen clock. Each and every one of their spokes were pointed at Mortal Danger. And while they were in danger, they were still alive, right?

There was nobody in the house this Christmas apart from Ginny, Arthur and herself.

“Ginny! Dinner!”

There was no response. Molly didn’t blame her, it was depressing in this house, but it was dinnertime and she expected her daughter downstairs no matter how she felt. _“Ginny!”_

Arthur looked up from the newspaper he was reading on his cosy plush armchair. “What’s for dinner?”

“Go find out, Arthur, it’s in the other room. Do I have to do everything around here? Get off your arse. _Ginny!”_

When there was, again, no response, Molly dropped the mitten she had been holding, untying her apron as she marched up the stairs. The door to Ginny’s room was shut, probably locked despite all of Molly’s instructions.

“Alohomora.” She tapped the lock with the tip of her wand twice, then pushed the door open. “Ginny, come downstairs for dinner!”

She saw her daughter sitting on her bed, legs tucked underneath herself, some strange contraption entering her ears. “Ginny, what in the heavens-!”

Ginny looked up, her long red hair falling over her shoulders, and stared at her mother with wide eyes. “Mum…”

“What is that thing, Ginny? What is entering your ears? Why do you look so frightened?”

“I…” She held up the object in her hands. It was a strange device, one she remembered Hermione playing with a few years ago. “I…I think it’s ringing.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Hermione showed me how it works. It’s a…cellphone. I listen to her music on it at home, it’s quite nice. But it’s never rang before.”

Molly blinked, thoroughly at a loss. “What…do you do, when it rings? Is it a safety malfunction?”

Ginny shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ear. “No…you press this button and you can talk to someone, like through the fireplace, but only with their voices.”

Molly frowned, but then a thought struck her and she grinned. “Come downstairs now! Quick, quick! Arthur would love to see this!” This could bring back the cheer of Christmas! Arthur was practically a child when faced with muggle inventions, and that was what the house needed: more children. She hurried Ginny out of her room, the teenager protesting only slightly before giving in, her wide brown eyes drinking in every detail of the ringing cellphone.

“Arthur! _Arthur!_ Come here, see this! It’s a cellphone!”

There it was, the boundless energy. Arthur ran up the stairs like a man twenty years younger, his hands clasped in front of his face. “Cellphone…? Ginny, how did you get it?”

“Hermione.” Molly answered for her, nostalgic of the days when Hermione would bound in, fresh from her muggle vacations, ready to spend time painting toenails with Molly’s youngest child. “Now, hurry up and press the button, Ginny!”

Ginny gulped, then pressed her thumb firmly on the green button. The phone stopped buzzing and emitting that piercing beeping, and everything turned silent.

There was static, and a grainy voice spoke on the other end.

“Who’s there?”

Ginny blinked. “Um…it’s Ginny Weasley. Who’s this?”

There was silence, then Ginny was treated to a bout of relieved laughter. “Oh, thank god! I never thought it would work! I waited a few days and picked the Christmas holidays to call because I was sure you’d be home, out of danger, thank god you found it!”

“Hermione!” Ginny yelped. “Hermione, are you alright? Is Harry with you?”

Molly and Arthur both muscled towards the phone in Ginny’s hand. “Hermione, darling!” “Oh, Hermione, how are you? Are you safe?”

Hermione seemed a bit overwhelmed. “Who all are in that room? The reception isn’t very good.”

Ginny looked at the two grown-ups, eyes narrowed. “Nobody, just my parents. What’s happened? How’s Harry and Ron?”

“They’re fine. Well, Harry’s fine. Ginny, I have a job for you to do.”

“Wait, what about Ron?”

“Listen to me, first. This is important for our mission.”

Molly suddenly grabbed the phone. “Hermione! Tell me what to do, not Ginny. I don’t want her involved in this.”

Ginny let out a startled hiss. “Mum! Give it back!”

Hermione groaned. “I don’t have much time! Please, listen. I need you to go to 28 Witney Way, Devon, and pick up the package that arrived for the muggle family there. I know that family, so tell them Hermione Granger sent you. It has the picture of a man that You-Know-Who is looking for, I need you to send that picture to all the Order members, we need to find him and keep him away from the Death Eaters. He has a weapon that could spell doom to everyone! Don’t muck this up, it’s very important, Harry had a vision and everything. We can’t do it ourselves because the Horcruxes aren’t letting us create a Patronus.”

Ginny nodded. “Got it, Hermione. Listen…can I speak with Harry?”

She could hear the other girl sigh. “Ugh, okay fine. But keep it short, we can’t stay too long. We have a mission to complete.” She heard the phone clatter as they exchanged hands.

“Ginny?”

It was him, it was Harry, sounding ever so nervous and hesitant and healthy, he was alive! Ginny almost shouted with glee. “Oh, Harry, I’m so glad I can hear you.”

“I’m glad I can hear you too. I’ve got to go, though.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Are you safe, Harry? Are you alright?”

“We’re not safe, not by a long shot. We just…saw my parents’ graves, and we’re about to confront this mad old woman. I’ve never missed you more.”

Molly decided to assert herself. There was a disturbing lack of news about Ron. “Harry, what about Ron? Where is he?”

“Ron…well…” Harry laughed bitterly. “He abandoned us. He left. I suppose he’s off in hiding somewhere. I need to go now. Bye, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley. I’m sorry.”

The line went dead, and the three Weasleys stared at each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have a little peek into a sad little Christmas holiday at the Burrow! With this, the fluff of the story gets a dose of plot added in.
> 
> Kudos and comment! Reviews make my heart happier :)


	16. Deluminator

Bill Weasley had come home with a turkey pie.

The Turner twins had moved out the week before, wanting to get home in time for Christmas, knowing that it would take at least ten days before they could confuse the Death Eaters enough to be allowed to enter their home again. Not having them in the home did wonders for the Feng Shui, their absence made the house light up with positivity, as if they had been a dampener of Fleur’s fluttery energy and Bill’s good-natured goofiness. Now if only something could be done about the depressing void that was Ron Weasley…

Light was kidding. He happened to like Ron very much, he was a good guy with a great knowledge of the magical arts, though he tried to hide it thanks to his raging inferiority complex. He was funny and entertaining, and happened to like Light quite a bit as well, which was always a plus.

Anyway, in the spirit of the season, with Christmas only a week away, all the occupants of Shell cottage (really, just the Weasleys, Fleur, L and Light) sat around the dinner table like a happy family, bickering about who deserved to cut the pie Bill had managed to wheedle from a generous muggle dealer in the city. In the end, L was chosen, mostly because Light testified as to his conscientious handling of food. He watched as the detective handled the blade of his knife carefully, lining it up exactly with the line of his index finger and dipping it down tip-first until it sank into the savoury goodness, exuding a mouth-watering smell that clouded the house in mere seconds.

It was enough to snap even Ron out of his depression, it smelled so damn good. Light smirked at the redhead, who had been snapping his lighter open and shut (he called it a Deluminator, much to Light’s amusement) absently, his eyes unfocused.

“Oh, bloody hell, that’s marvellous.” The younger Weasley breathed, leaning over to take in a deep sniff of the scent. Bill chuckled. “Muggles are good with food, Dad had that right.”

L cut out four perfectly sized pieces meticulously, supporting them on the handle of the knife as he served them on their waiting plates. Light closed his eyes and savoured the smell. It had been a while since he had had a good meal, Bill and Fleur were usually understocked thanks to the war, though they were kind enough to always bring back something sweet from their ventures for L at Light’s request. The detective was in a much better mood nowadays, back to his usual self with his legs tucked under his chin and eyes wandering the room as he picked at his meat pie.

Light remembered L saying something about savoury pies a long time ago, _what’s the point of a pie if it isn’t sweet?_ Light hoped he didn’t say anything to that effect in present company; the Weasleys were demolishing the pie, their faces masks of pure ecstasy.

Light chuckled, polishing off his own slice as Bill fiddled with his wireless radio. “So…Ron, Light, L, have you heard of Potterwatch?”

Ron blinked. “Potterwatch?”

Bill grinned, putting the radio on the table and tapping it with his knobbed wand. “ _Padfoot_.”

Suddenly, the radio whirred to life, and the enthusiastic voice of a sports newscaster filled the room. “And welcome to another episode of Potterwatch! This here’s Rivers, accompanied by the gracious and magnificent Romulus, here to give you another update on the Pals of Potter!”

Ron’s eyes bulged out of his head. “Is that _Lee Jordan?”_

Bill put a gloved finger to his lips. “Don’t reveal his identity. They’re all in hiding.”

Light and L joined him widening their eyes when the velvety voice of Remus Lupin followed from the speakers. “Thank you, Rivers, I’m glad to be here. Some, I can tell you, are not so lucky. It turns out that killing isn’t the extent of what the Death Eaters are capable of. Dolores Umbridge was found with the all-seeing eye of Mad-Eye Moody, only months since his death at the hands of You-Know-Who.”

“We call him the Chief Death Eater, here.” Jordan corrected. “Gives him more of a relatable vibe, if you know what I mean.”

“Of course, of course. The Chief Death Eater. So it appears Umbridge and the Death Eaters have ravaged the former Auror’s body and taken the valuables from it, like a band of savages.”

“Savages! Romulus, you go too far. There are other words for people who murder and torture innocents without provocation!”

Lupin chuckled. “Too right, Rivers. I suppose a better word would be _monsters_.”

“Bastards is a good word too.”

“Cursing over the radio, I wasn’t aware this show was R-rated.” Lupin sounded ever so sarcastic, so unlike his usual demeanour.

Jordan’s voice dropped an octave. “In a world where children are forced to witness the horrors the Death Eaters are committing on a daily basis, I don’t think ratings matter. And on that note, I think it’s time for our moment of silence for those murdered within the last twenty-four hours, whose deaths have not been reported on the Daily Prophet or any form of news in the Wizarding World.”

Light and L stared at each other as the radio crackled to a silence. The resistance had balls, that’s for sure. Light’s respect for Lupin and Lee Jordan (whoever he was) went up over the roof. To create a radio show displaying news about the supporters of the current number one enemy of Wizarding kind, it took a great amount of courage.

Frankly, it felt like something L would organise. It had the right mix of ballsy and efficient, performing its function with a dramatic flourish. On an impulse, Light reached out and grabbed L’s hand, running his thumb down the other man’s palm. L’s head snapped to him, his eyes impossibly wide, so Light gave him a friendly grin, noting that Bill and Fleur were also holding hands.

Ron noted that as well, he saw, his face dropping, flicking his Deluminator on and off, his eyes far away, probably with the girl Hermione he had abandoned in the woods.

“Yep.” The radio spluttered back to life. “And there you have another episode of Potterwatch. If you’re Harry Potter, his friends or his supporters, our hearts go out to you. The password for the next episode, which will be featured tomorrow, is Percival. This is Rivers, signing off.”

In the aftermath of the ballsy rebellion’s move, Fleur and Bill leaned in for a passionate kiss, and that was all fine…until they darted a smug look at L and Light as they snogged.

Smug? Was that a challenge? Light could never back away from a challenge.

L and Light exchanged a look that could only be described as heated, her hands slippery in each other’s grip. Light’s nose filled with the smell of the shampoo L had borrowed from Fleur, which hung over the detective like a cloud of smoke, and L shut his eyes, so close to Light’s face, his lips twitching as their noses brushed.

And they were all interrupted by Ron’s startled cry.

“The Deluminator! Look!”

Both couples broke away from each other, one still smug while the other pair flushed red, avoiding each other’s eyes. They all turned their attention to the youngest Weasley boy. He was hopping up and down, his Deluminator illuminated with a white-blue orb of light. The orb detached from the lighter, floating a few inches from Ron before speeding away out the window.

“Hermione.” He breathed. Light wondered where he jumped to that conclusion from (how was Hermione relevant to a strange glowing lighter? Was it hers?), but then the Deluminator did it again, the light blossoming at the end that would normally exhale flames, and this time Light could see her. A pretty young woman with bushy brown hair tied back with a ribbon, in a pink scarf and dirty blue dress, holding a tiny mauve handbag under one arm. Next to her sat a boy with messy black hair and large green eyes, wearing round spectacles that marked him as being Harry Potter, the potential saviour of the Wizarding world and the subject of the radio show they had just been listening to.

The orb detached again, and sped off into the unknown through the window.

“It’s telling me how to get back to Hermione! Bill, where is it going? I need to apparate!”

Light and L sprung to their feet. “We’re coming with you.” They said at the same time, still linked by their sweaty palms.

Ron gaped at them. Evidently, Fleur hadn’t brought this up as a serious topic yet. “What? Why?”

Light shook his head. “It’s a long story, but you’re going Horcrux hunting and we need to be there. Fleur, back me up.”

Fleur nodded. “They have good reasons, Ron, I’m sure they’ll explain later.”

Ron held the bridge of his nose. “Alright, fine. Hurry up.”

Light bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time, banging open his bedroom door and grabbing his backpack by the straps. Luckily, he hadn’t bothered to unpack in the weeks they had spent here, so the Death Note and all of his supplies were still secure. He checked to see if Lupin’s portkey coin was still in its pocket (he had flicked it on their first day here, and since the wizard hadn’t visited them once since, he had apparently never noticed). As an afterthought, glancing at the weather outside, he grabbed the coats lying around the room, and a couple of the spare wands they had left lying around after their selection.

By the time he made it downstairs, L (who he saw was carrying a container of what was presumably all the candy he could find on a short notice) and Ron were gathered around the lighter, holding it like a precious gem while Bill scratched his head, his wand extended over it. “I managed to track the location until the Forest of Dean, but I can’t narrow it down further.”

L gestured for Light to get there quickly. The teenager sprinted over, grabbing L’s elbow. “I’m sure the lighter will show us the way once we’re there, if it’s guiding us right now.”

Bill nodded. “Yeah, I think so too. Be careful, Ron, Light, L. Apparate here in case of any trouble, I’m going to cast a Fidelus charm on the place so it’ll be safe from Death Eaters. Lupin will be the secret keeper.”

Ron gripped the lighter tightly. “I’m going to apparate now. Grab hold and try not to get splinched. I’ll see you, Bill.”

“Take care, you three!” Fleur stood up, her hands clasped over her chest.

L and Light took Ron’s hand, squeezing their eyes shut and quickly blanking their minds before the three young men were wrenched from the safety of Fleur and Bill’s warm kitchen and thrown into the cold snowdrift of the Forest of Dean, the Deluminator blinking alive and throwing orbs of light like will o’ the wisps into the trees.

* * *

Several hours after their departure, Bill woke up to the sound of a silvery grizzly bear at the foot of his bed, lowing urgently at him in his mother’s voice, transforming intermittently into the face of Light Yagami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (As you can see, I've finished the story and added the total number of chapters now hahaha!) Oh, and look at that word count haha it's 30303!
> 
> Kudos and comment anything that pops in your head! I like seeing what you think of the story!


	17. The Stag and the Doe

“Ronald Weasley, goddamn it, don’t you know where the Forest of Dean is?”

Light wondered if he had had to bring those coats from the cottage at all. The heat of L’s annoyance towards the redheaded wizard seemed enough to melt all the snow in their way.

Ron crossed his arms, trudging along in his sneakers since none of them had thought to bring boots. “Look, if I apparate to a place I’m not all that familiar with, we could all have been splinched. Do you even know what splinched means?”

L snarled. “Don’t you condescend to me, you utterly incompetent excuse for a wizard.”

“Hey, hey.” Light raised his palms face-up. “Keep it together, L. Do you want some candy?”

L gave him a withering look. “I have to _save_ that candy because, of course, we had to start our adventure on short notice _again_ , without adequate preparation or even a proper plan, on the recommendation of a glowing lighter.”

“It’s a _Deluminator_ , you nagging git.”

L swivelled to face the freckled Weasley. “Who are you calling a git, you bloody-”

“ _L_. Keep it together. It’s not that bad. We’re just wandering in the woods again. I’d think you’d be used to that by now.” Light put a gloved hand (he always carried gloves in the pocket of his coat, unlike the utterly unprepared duo he was walking with) on L’s shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. The detective jerked out of his grasp, giving him a dirty look.

“I don’t need your comfort, Yagami-kun. I am not a child.”

Light sighed, rolling his eyes. “Wow, L. Can you get any more immature?”

“Right?” Ron agreed. “To think I was punishing myself for walking out on my friends. This guy would probably have split in the first three days.”

L’s face slowly turned a deep shade of crimson. He turned to the wizard who, Light noticed, usually stood two inches above L…but the detective was straightening his back, his spine straining until he stood at full height, an inch taller than Ron. His face was blank, but his eyes shone with venom.

“Don’t you dare compare yourself with me. I have made one true friend in all my life, and despite all of the _shit_ he has put me through, the _torture and pain_ , (shit you have probably never gone through your whole life, you _pathetic_ moron), despite him testing me to the core, I followed him here. I followed him away from everything I have ever known. I have been humiliated and pushed to my limits by him, both mentally and physically, but I have not, and will not _ever_ abandon my friend. I would not even think of it. So don’t you dare act like we are the same.”

...that stung.

The detective was right, of course, Light had been a terrible friend to L for a long time, but the fact that it was true didn’t make it hurt any less. “L.” Light gritted his teeth, yanking the detective away from Ron, who looked ready to burst into tears. “L, stop this.”

The black-haired man spun around to face Light, but the fierceness of his gaze quickly melted away. He blinked, realising what he had just said. “Oh, Raito-kun, I didn’t mean…” He reached out to touch Light’s cheek with his icy fingers. The brunet quietly stepped away.

“We need to keep moving. Maybe if we move fast enough, we can reach the interior of the forest by dark.”

“Raito-kun…” The detective hurried after Light, who drew his pale wand and cast a quick warming spell on the three of them. “Raito-kun, I didn’t mean it…”

Light smiled ruefully. “Of course you meant it, L. You don’t have to apologise for telling the truth. You do, however, have to apologise for goading Ron in the middle of a mission.”

L raised his nose in the air. “I am not apologising to that incompetent fool, Raito-kun.”

Light rolled his eyes. “No, I suppose you won’t. Just…come on. We have a lot of walking to do.”

“Yes, we have a lot of walking to do, because _someone_ didn’t decide to take literally any other form of transportation when he knew he wasn’t familiar with the landscape of the Forest of Dean…”

“Can you stop that?” Ron moaned. “It’s not like you suggested any better ideas!”

Light felt a headache coming on. He pressed his fingers to his temple, squeezing his eyes shut as he walked. “Can you both please just shut up and walk?”

L sniffled, crossing his arms and walking with long strides until he caught up with the glowing orb, which chittered and flew along to the next checkpoint. Every time they caught up with it, it seemed to become more animal-like, gaining an actual shape and appearing to dart along through the snow. Light stepped into the thickly packed snow, casting another Hot-Air charm to heat up his toes. He understood why L was so crabby, the man had been a billionaire with no reason to leave his room for the past…ten years? Twenty? Making him walk through snow for miles and miles was an especially cruel punishment.

It felt like it had been hours, and the sun was beginning to set, when Light realised that the orb looked a lot more like a Patronus than anything else. Glowing a lovely silver-white, opaque and lighting up the surroundings, it was a stag, its head ornamented with large, elaborate horns, stomping the ground with one of its slender legs as it waited for them to join it.

“Is your Patronus a stag, Ron?” He asked, enchanted. The other boy stared at it, a wistful smile appearing on his face.

“No, but Harry’s is.”

L blinked. “So the lighter is his?”

Ron gave him a sharp look. “Deluminator. And no, it’s mine, but I think it’s a stag because it’s showing me the way to him.” As if awoken by his own words, he snapped alert. “It’s showing me the way to him!” He rushed towards it, filled with newfound energy, leaving L and Light to exchange startled looks before spurring themselves to keep up with him.

* * *

Harry stood in front of the frozen lake, staring down at the Sword of Gryffindor shimmering under the thick slab of ice.

He had been led here, half-asleep and barely able to stand under the strain of Slytherin’s locket, by his mother’s patronus, an ethereal doe that, even now, pawed the snow and waited for him to act.

“ _The sword presents itself to those with need and valour.”_ Dumbledore whispered in his kindly voice in his mind. Harry had the need, now he must show that he had the valour as well. He would have to step into the icy water and pick up the sword.

The doe stepped towards him, nosing him gently towards the lake. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” He muttered, stripping off his clothes. He placed them in a pile on the driest part of the shore.

“ _Diffindo_.” He used Hermione’s wand to break the ice, then walked into the pool, completely forgetting to take off the Horcrux that hung on a chain around his neck.

Ron Weasley found him not long after that, struggling to breathe as the chain tightened around his neck, hissing in Parseltongue as it tried to choke him to death.

 _“Harry!”_ The ginger wizard screamed, running to his best friend, dragging him out of the water and wresting the chain from his neck. The pendant dangled from it, that oh-so-familiar pendant that had haunted him for months.

Ron picked up the sword, so cold against his skin, throwing the pendant onto a nearby root and readying the blade over it.

“Do it, Ron! Destroy it! I’ll open it with Parseltongue, stab it!”

“No…” Sweat dripped down Ron’s brow. “Harry, I can’t, it’ll show me things, I don’t think I can…it’ll speak to me…”

“Will it speak to everyone?” A calm, collected male voice came from behind the redhead, sounding almost casual, a stark contrast to Harry’s rapidly beating heart and Ron’s panic. “Can I help?”

Ron turned back to the wizard behind him, appearing to trust him. Harry strained to see the man, but he was blocked from view by Ron’s protective stance over his shivering body. “It speaks to everyone, but…it’s particularly bad for me.”

“Does it say terrible things?” There was a trace of mockery in his voice, jarring him. Who was this person, who was so indifferent to the powers of the Horcrux? “Or does it do things as well?”

Ron looked down at the pendant in his hands. “It…it only shows you things. As far as we know.”

“Alright, then I’ll stab it. Give it here.” The wizard came over, his face still in shadow, bundled up in a thick coat, the hood over auburn hair. “I’ve always wanted to use a sword.”

“Raito-kun, it’s a magical object, be cautious, will you?” A seemingly bored monotone came from behind the man. _What was Ron doing with two strangers?_ The first wizard gave the one at the back a thumbs up, taking the pendant in his gloved hand, dangling it in front of his face.

He then looked up, right at Harry, his chestnut eyes gleaming. “You said you would open it?”

Harry’s mouth dropped open.

_“You…!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Light, you always want to take the glory, don't you?
> 
> I did not realise it had been five days since I've updated (has it actually, or is AO3 glitching on me?*). Anyway, comment your views! They keep me motivated as heck :)
> 
> *fixed it. AO3 really was glitching on me XD


	18. The Locket of Slytherin

Harry practically flung himself onto Ron, hugging him closer than he was comfortable with, especially with the boy practically naked. “Um…Harry, stop. We have to destroy the Horcrux.”

“You found him! Oh, Ron, thank you so much, you’ve made up for everything! Every bit of betrayal I felt, every minute of hearing Hermione sob into her pillow, you’ve made up for everything! I bet she’ll even forgive you now! Ron, I’m so glad you’re back.” His arms were tight around his neck, a vice that refused to let go. Ron glanced nervously at his two companions, who were staring wide-eyed at the spectacle, the polished black locket still hanging from Light’s hand.

Ron wriggled in Harry’s grip, reaching to give Light the gleaming Sword of Gryffindor. The teenager took it with undisguised thrill, running his fingers over the abundant carvings and gesturing for L to come closer and check it out. The locket tried to escape him, but Light wound the chain twice over his wrist, securing it.

L trotted over, his black eyes wide and shining with curiosity. He carefully probed the metal and bit his thumbnail. “This is a real medieval sword. It is as legitimate as the ones you may see in a museum. How did you acquire this?”

Ron gulped in some air, trying to break free of Harry’s continuing embrace. “Yeah, it’s real. It’s Gryffindor’s sword. Gryffindor’s one of the founders of Hogwarts. Harry, can you knock it off, buddy?”

Harry finally released him, turning his attention to Light. “You, who are you? Where is your weapon?”

Light was at a loss. “It’s not mine, it’s Gryffindor’s. And…it’s right here. In front of you.”

L frowned at the Boy-Who-Lived. “What exactly do you mean by weapon?”

“I mean…your weapon! The one You-Know-Who is looking for!”

Light blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have any weapon.” His voice was abruptly soft and dangerous. The locket swayed in his hands as L elbowed him sharply.

“What he means is, you have given us all our weapons. We have a wand each, and the sword. We are muggle-borns from Japan, you see, and we are looking to help you with your war.”

Harry looked blank for a few moments. “No…that’s a lie. Maybe _you_ are a Japanese wizard, but he...” He pointed straight at Light, whose jaw was tight, his gaze severe. “He’s from another dimension.”

Ron laughed nervously. “Harry, are you bloody out of your mind? What is wrong with you? Look, just forget about this for now…we have to destroy the Horcrux! We can’t let it stay with us anymore, it’s poisonous.”

Harry nodded soberly. “You’re right. We should destroy it. Get ready, I’m going to open it now. You have to stab it the minute I open it, got it?”

Light gave Harry a sharp nod, unwinding the pendant from his wrist and placing it on the root Ron had chosen previously. He clasped the sharp sword in his hands, running one palm over the flat of its blade, holding the pendant in place by the chain. “I’m ready.”

Harry took a deep breath, then let out a series of eerie hissing, breathing sounds, the words flowing over each other, completely meaningless. _Parseltongue_ , Ron marvelled. He was telling it to open in Parseltongue.

And the pendant burst open, revealing a strange swivelling black eye beneath its glass windows. Light paused. “What…?”

“Stab it! Stab it now!” Harry yelled, getting to his feet, shivering in the snow. Ron was transfixed as Light raised the sword, ready to swing it down on the pendant.

_“Kira.”_

The sword stilled in his hands.

_“I have seen into your heart, Kira. I know everything about you, I know your every black-hearted intention.”_ A black mist curled from the locket, surrounding the man with the silver sword. _“You hold Gryffindor’s sword, not realising what it means to hold it. You are no Gryffindor, you are a Slytherin to the core, one with my house. Even now you plot and plan, you look for any way by which you can steal the Death Note and get away from your captor.”_

L’s mouth grew hard. He stepped forward, trying to get to Light, but the mist was repelling him, making him cough and back away. “Light, don’t listen to it…”

“Stab it!” Harry shrieked, but Light was a marble statue, staring down at the eye that was rising from the pendant, slimy and blacker than coal. “Why isn’t he stabbing it?”

_“Do you truly think you deserve to have him as anything more than a captor? You, a murderer of thousands, one who has sold his soul to the Gods of Death? Do you deserve anything but a painful, humiliating death?”_

Ron couldn’t see much through the thick fog around the brunet, but when he squinted, he caught a glimpse of the boy’s face. There was a smile. It stretched impossibly over an otherwise cool expression, his eyes sharp and irises flashing scarlet. Slowly, chillingly, a quiet chuckle emitted, and L let out a cry.

“Raito-kun, don’t you dare do this right now! Stab it!” He screamed, trying unsuccessfully to wade through the thick mist. “Raito, don’t listen to it!”

“Of course I deserve more.” The teenager said in that velvety voice. “A painful death? Do you really think my ambitions are so low?”

There was a sudden cackle from the pendant, and the voice was much louder. _“A man of Slytherin House indeed…but I see your ambitions are doubtlessly low for someone of your stature. Each one of them involves a man you can never have unless you give up everything you hold dear. A man who will never accept you, who will always mistrust you.  Do you think he would have left the Death Note unscathed if you had not decided to visit the Shinigami realm?”_

Light smirked. “You need not state the obvious. I know what he was going to do.”

_“You knew that, did you? And did you know that had you not agreed to burn the notebook, every piece of it, he was going to have you executed?”_

Light’s smile dropped, and his face became terrifyingly still.

_“Oh, he is a crafty one, worthy of Slytherin house if only he had your ambitions. He had the plans all ready, given to his successors because he knew he wouldn’t have had the heart to have you killed. He loves you more than anybody else, but do you really think that would get in the way of Justice? You heard him, that day on the roof.”_

A miniature apparition of L appeared above the pendant, on his knees, fingers tight around the throat of a prone Light, baring his teeth as he snarled. “I will die before I let Kira win.”

Light took a step back. “H-he only said that because…because I was going to kill him. We were…we made a p-pact…I will never use the Death Note again, I keep my end of the bargain and he will not execute me…it was a pact…he is j-just as interested in the Note as I am, he wanted to study it…”

_“Fool. You stupid, naïve fool. Do you really think he will risk having Kira return for the sake of curiosity? He will burn the notebook. He doesn’t care about your pacts, and frankly, he doesn’t really care about you. He has only kept you alive because he has some affection for you. Affection that can easily be ruled out, especially for a detached man with no need for emotion.”_

Light swayed in his place. “B-but if he burns it, he will take my memories…”

_“Do you think he cares if you lose your memories? You are nothing more than a common fool, believing everything someone tells you. Do you think he is capable of caring for you the way you care for him? Do you think he is capable of feeling that way at all? He would have you killed without a second thought, he would come to watch you die with your entire family. He would not revel in your final humiliation, but he would not weep for you either.”_

“He…he does feel that way. I’m not stupid, I know he does…”

_“You’re not stupid, are you? You know there is something wrong in the way he perceives you. Do you really think he considers Light and Kira to be two different people? Does that make sense with all the pieces put together? He said Light is a sociopath. Does that fit into the picture? He adjusts so easily with the appearance and disappearance of Kira, as if he expects it of you. Do you truly think he would bother to spare Kira? His nemesis? Do you think he would weep for him? I don’t think he would.”_

Light was silent, his head bowed. The pendant began to crow. _“Drop the sword, Kira. Drop the sword, you are conquered.”_ And for a moment, it looked like he would do just that.

The boy steadied his feet and walked up to the root where the pendant was lying, his head still bowed, his muscles tense and twitching with strain.

“You are right, of course.” He whispered so softly that the air almost carried his voice away. “Kira is conquered.” In one smooth, natural movement, the arc of the sword shone high in the light of the sun, glimmering even through the dense fog. There was a loud crack, a screeching that drilled into their eardrums, much like the raking of fingernails over a chalkboard, and the fog dissolved into the crisp winter air.

Light Yagami collapsed to his knees in the snow in front of the fractured pendant, the sword discarded at his side as he buried his face in his hands. L was there like a shot from a gun, wrapping his arms around the teenager’s body, pulling him as close as humanly possible, gripping him by the shoulders and shaking him. “Raito, Raito-kun, didn’t you hear me this whole time? They were all lies, every word was a lie, none of it was true. I would never kill you, Light, I would never be able to kill you. Raito-kun, can you hear me? I said I would _never be able to kill you_. You are not Kira, remember? I…Raito-kun?”

The boy shrugged off his embrace, getting to his feet. He was stumbled towards the nearest patch of bushes that shielded him from view and floundered into the thick brambles, his clothes tearing as he did. Quickly, the brunet ducked his head out of sight.

L closed his eyes tight as all three of them pretended not to hear Light empty the contents of his stomach into the roots of the shrubbery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favourite chapters (so much drama :D)
> 
> I cannot keep track if I'm uploading early or not. I guess I'll just upload whenever I feel like (which will be very often, if my track record is anything to go by)


	19. Incendio

Not for the first time when it came to Raito-kun, L found himself scared out of his wits.

They were trudging through the snow towards Potter’s nearby camp, and Light had closed off completely. L had been on the receiving end of his silent treatment more times than he could bother to list out, but this was different; this was more serious than anything the teenager had done before.

L stared at the auburn-haired boy. His slim frame was partially folded into itself, his head bowed and hands tucked into the pockets of his thick winter coat. A strange part of the detective’s brain noted how the jacket was nothing like what Light would usually choose to wear; his usual brand of clothing was designer, polished and stylish. This one made him look softer, younger, with its furry trim and dusty lavender colouring.

Despite how disguised his expressions usually were, L had never seen Light completely impassive before. He could not decipher anything from its sharp planes and usually expressive eyes; the boy gave nothing away, as if he was wearing a literal mask over his face.

 More than anything else, L felt miserable. He was heartbroken that Light had been so easily fooled into believing the worst of him. It was true that he planned to burn the notebook the minute they got back to their own world, but he would _never_ execute Light if he refused. He would not even dream of it.

L knew that Kira’s hold on Light was weak, the Death Note had influenced him so greatly because he was young, bored and frustrated, and to give someone that degree of power would obviously intoxicate them. Now, though, Light was stronger. He had gone through the worst of the storm and gotten a reality check; L had shown him how some criminals did deserve to live, how some could be rehabilitated and others may have gone on to prevent crimes themselves. L knew it had affected him, seeing the consequences of his blind idealism. He knew that Kira would never return (at least, not in the same way). The mass murderer was gone. If the brunet had lapses every now and then, it was temporary because Light himself was extremely wilful. He would never succumb to Kira again.

L knew this, he had accepted them as facts. It was why he had allowed the trip to the Shinigami realm in the first place. It was why he allowed Light to carry the notebook, to tear it into pieces and stick on their bodies. Couldn’t he see how much faith the detective had in him? How could he think L would execute him _now?_

“Raito-kun.” L touched his elbow, but again, the teenager ignored him. The younger man’s eyes were firmly on the footprints that led, backwards, the way to the camp. “Raito-kun, can you please listen to me?”

To his side, he saw Ron give him a pitying look. When they met eyes, the redhead gave him a sad smile. “Give him time, L. He’s probably in shock.”

“We’re here.” Harry announced, glancing warily at the three of them before ducking into the little shelter and shaking a slender woman with bushy brown hair awake.

The famous Hermione Granger, L presumed. He had heard  a lot about her from Fleur and Ron, who called her the Brightest Witch of her Age. L had scoffed at that (had they compared that data with the data of witches all around the world or just in Hogwarts? He was sure the wizards of Britain were self-centred enough to not even bother cross-checking before they awarded such titles to the people of their community), but now he was glad to have someone who was confirmed to be of at least an acceptable level of brilliance in their company. He needed a smarter perspective than Ronald Weasley to get some actual insights on the magical world.

The girl murmured as she stirred awake, and he could see the cowardly Weasley attempt to hide behind some canvas sheets the campers had substituted for drapes. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

Harry smiled shakily. “We have someone here to see you.”

The girl shoved the hair out of her eyes as she sat up on her elbows. “See me? What does that even mean?” She blinked, and stared straight at L. Her nose wrinkled, offending the detective instantly. He gave her a disdaining look. “Who is that?” Her eyes travelled over to Light, who was busy studying the tent with a pensive expression. “And who are _you?”_

Light looked over at her, giving her his usual icily polite smile. “Light Yagami, pleased to meet you.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Wait up. Are you-”

“The guy You-Know-Who is looking for? Yeah, Potter’s told me that several times already.” Light sauntered over to her, sitting beside her hip, and L could just see the protective shells thickening over his genuine self, snapping into place with practiced ease.

The girl folded her legs under her, bewildered. “You found us? How? And who are you with?”

Light smiled tightly. “He’s Ryuuzaki, but you can call him L. And we didn’t find you, your friend guided us to you.”

She turned her attention to Harry. “How did _you_ find them, then? Did the Order come through?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, in a way. One member of the Order came through.” He gestured for Ron to come out of the drapes, but the redheaded boy was too busy cowering. Light let out an empty chuckle, as if going through the motions.

L groaned. “Weasley, quit it, will you? We have better things to worry about at the moment.”

_“Weasley?”_ Hermione swung her legs off the bed, narrowly missing Light, and stood up straight. “You don’t mean…?”

L exhaled out his nose. “Yes, your prodigal son has returned. Now, if we can skip the drama-“

Hermione ran towards the drapes, flinging them aside and throwing herself at Ron, pounding him hard in the chest with her fists. “You…bloody…good-for-nothing…git!” She said in between punches.

“Ow! Hermione, cut it out!” Ron yelped, trying to catch her wrists but failing. The bushy-haired girl intensified her physical abuse, throwing a punch at his stomach and attempting to knee him in the groin.

“Stop it, already. You’ve made your point.” L mumbled, bored. Hermione shoved Ron away.

“Where is my wand? Harry, give me back my wand!”

Harry attempted to cast a quick _Protego_ between Hermione and Ron, but the girl was quick, wresting the wand from the raven-haired boy and pointing it at the redhead. “Oh, you’ll regret it now, Weasley, you will-”

“Wingardium Leviosa.” Light murmured softly, and Ron floated up into the air, shrieking in panic.

_“Light!_ Put me down! _What did I tell you about levitating people?”_ He shouted, flailing his limbs helplessly.

Light uttered a humourless chuckle. “You told me I’m not powerful enough to do it.” He waved his white wand, shaking the redhead like a puppet without strings. “Power isn’t something I lack.”

Hermione stared at him slack-jawed. “Put him down!”

Light gave her an ironical smirk. “Why do you care? He’s regretting it now, can you see?”

_“Put him down!”_

Light flicked his wand down, settling the redhead carefully on his feet. The wizard stumbled around, unbalanced, and Hermione ran to him, enclosing him in a tight hug. “Why did you do that?”

Light shrugged. “I predicted that your little jinxing battle would have lasted at least ten minutes, and may have given Ron short-lived injuries. This way, nobody gets hurt and it’s done in…” Light looked down at his wristwatch. “Fifteen seconds.”

Hermione turned a weak shade of peony. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

L walked over to where Light was sitting, taking a seat beside the brunet. “Forgive my friend, he isn’t in the best state of mind. He has just destroyed a Horcrux.”

Light’s head snapped to him, and L was so relieved to see the fire in his eyes. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, L? I am completely-”

“Raito-kun, please. Control yourself.”

The teenager’s cheeks turned scarlet and his fists balled up on his thighs.

Harry decided to intervene before they lost track of the point again. “Um, Light. We have to discuss…a lot of things. You-Know-Who is looking for you and a weapon you are said to be carrying.”

Light turned sharply to the Boy-Who-Lived. “I told you, I am _not_ carrying a weapon.”

Hermione piped up. “The Dark Lord disagrees with that. It’s a weapon from the dimension you come from. Perhaps you don’t know that you are carrying it. Harry said that if you write a name in it, that person will die.”

The teenager went pale.

“Do you recognise any magical object like that?”

Light started to shake his head no, prompting L to slap him across the back of the head. “Raito-kun, they know what it is. Who are you trying to fool?”

Light rubbed the nape of his neck. “L, what the fuck-”

“How much do you know about Light’s weapon?” L asked, hopping up onto the bed and arranging himself in his favourite position, knees bent and his thumb going up to his lip.

Harry licked his lips. “Well, You-Know-Who wants to use it to destroy all his enemies, myself included. The blond girl he has living with him says that if you write a name in it while knowing the face of the person you want to kill, they’ll die just like that. No spell-work necessary.”

Light’s mouth dropped open. “Blond girl? You mean…Misa?”

Harry frowned. “Yeah, he called her Misa Amane of the Other Dimension, I believe. She’s…she’s your girlfriend, isn’t she?”

Light’s face lit up, eyes shining as a huge smile dominated it. “No way. Misa’s here! This is amazing!”

Behind Hermione, Ron’s eyes widened, flicking from Light to L and back. “You…have a girlfriend? From another dimension?”

L tried not to pout at the suddenly exuberant brunet. _Fucking Misa._ “She’s not his girlfriend.” L muttered resentfully, making Ron’s eyebrows vanish into his hairline. “What exactly are you so happy about, Raito-kun? This is terrible news, Amane Misa is on the wrong side of the war.”

Light turned to him, his toothy smile infectious as he grasped the detective’s shoulders. “Fuck the war, she’s here! That means she brought Rem, and Rem would never leave her alone. We’ve effectively located a Shinigami! All we need to do is join Misa, then we can go home.” Light glanced at Harry. “I’m sure she said something about wanting to take me home, didn’t she? Why else would she have had Rem bring her?”

Harry turned white. “No.”

Light gave him an incredulous look. “She…didn’t mention wanting to take me home? That’s strange.”

Harry bit his lip, one hand mussing his already messy black hair. “No…she did. She did say that, but I will not let you go to the Dark Lord.”

Light waved his hand dismissively at the bespectacled boy. “Look, I’m not from this dimension, remember? I won’t bother helping him-”

“No, you don’t understand. Your girlfriend has made a pact with him. She has agreed to allow him to use you as a weapon in exchange for his help in finding you. The…the white monster Rem agreed to the pact, she’s forcing your girlfriend to abide by it. Misa doesn’t want to, I think, but apparently it’s for her own safety.”

Light stared at him, his eyes narrowed and cold. One side of his mouth rose in a smirk. “She wouldn’t dare use me as a tool in her schemes.”

“She did. It’s the only thing prompting the Dark Lord to help her, the fact that he can use you and your weapon when he finds you.”

Mocking laughter. “Right. I am not bound by the treaties Misa makes on my behalf.”

Harry shivered, raising his hand to his scar. “He has ways of making you obey, Yagami. He will torture you until you have no choice, or he could use the Imperius curse to force you. We can’t risk it.”

Light laughed, about to contradict him with their revelation about the protective effects of the Death Note pieces stuck to their bodies, but L placed a hand on his knee. “Light, he’ll discover it. If he has us prisoner, he will undoubtedly discover it, or use methods that do not involve magic to get you to submit. Potter is right. It’s risky. And what if he steals the Note? He could use it himself, unchecked.”

Harry crossed his arms. “Where is your weapon? You speak as if you have it on you right now.”

Light gave him an icy once-over. “My _weapon_ , as you call it-hey!” He made a grab for his backpack as Hermione slipped it off the one shoulder he wore it on, scooting to the far side of the tent and hunting furiously. Light bolted towards her, but Ron stood in his way, grabbing him by the upper arms. “Cool it, buddy.”

“That’s _mine!_ Let go of me-”

“She’s not going to touch your stuff, Light, she’s just looking for the weapon-”

Light wrenched out of his grasp, drawing back a fist and socking him across the jaw. Ron staggered back, startled, and Light lunged towards Hermione, who was busy unbuttoning flaps within the pack. “Give that back to me, you idiotic-”

Strong arms grabbed Light from behind, hurling him back against the floor. He fell hard, hitting his head, and the figure climbed on top of him, pinning his wrists down as he held him to the ground. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Raito-kun, maybe it’s the Horcrux or maybe it is the lingering effects of Kira, but you will not act this way, do you understand? I can bear you punching me, but you will not assault and levitate people like a lunatic.”

“L! Get off of me!” Light spat, glaring and writhing under the detective. “ _Get off of me,_ they’re going to take the Death Note, you stupid bastard! Let me go!”

“They will not use it, Light. We have researched them, remember? They have had magical objects in the past and have not used them. They are trustworthy.”

“Yeah, no shit they won’t use it! I don’t give a shit whether they use it or not _, get off of me!”_

Hermione suddenly dropped the bag. “Ow!” She cried. Ron rushed to her side, still rubbing his swelling jaw. “What’s wrong, Hermione?”

“It burns.” She sucked on her index and middle fingers, her face twisted in pain. “Damn.”

Light bucked in L’s hold, pulling one of his hands free. He drew it back to deliver a shot to the stomach, but the detective acted quickly, holding down the boy’s shoulders with his feet. He caught hold of Light’s arms and pinned them under his body. “Raito-kun, stop acting like a wild animal!”

“Then…get…off…me!” He gasped, struggling to free his wrists.

Ron went over to the backpack, to the flap Hermione had just released. There was a slim black book in there, its pages tinged yellow. He reached in to yank it out, but the moment his fingers made contact with it, a burning sensation, almost acidic, engulfed them. He yelped, dropping it. “The notebook burns!”

“It’s the weapon, then. Am I right, L?” Harry tilted his head at the occupied detective, who nodded.

“It doesn’t usually burn when you touch it. I suspect it has something to do with your magic.”

Light stilled in L’s grasp, his expression melting from vicious to that standard, infuriating innocence. “L, I’m sorry I overreacted. I won’t try to take it from them. They can’t pick it up anyway, see? Let me go now.” He gave him a sweet smile.

L curled his lip, disgusted. “Keep your mouth shut, Raito-kun.”

His eyes sharpened, and a snarl appeared on those candy-pink lips. “Fuck you, L! Just fuck you! Let me go, you lying freak! You repulsive two-faced _bastard!_ I can’t believe-mmph!”

L freed one hand and covered his mouth, sealing it shut. The teenager’s eyes lit up in outrage, his slim body bucking hard under the detective, jerking his head to the side, redoubling his struggles to free himself.

“See if you can pick it up using gloves.” L suggested to Harry, who nodded, rushing over to Hermione’s bed and picking up her blanket. Carefully, he slid the notebook out of the bag with the help of the cloth, reading the words on the cover. “Death Note.”

“Death Note, yes. You murder people by writing their names in it.” L supplied. “I do not suggest doing so, however. It usually results in your developing a God complex and an alternate psychotic personality.”

Ron blinked at the raven-haired detective. “Is that what happened to Light?”

L tightened his hold on the boy. “Yes. He is also known as Kira, in our world. He attempted to cleanse the world of criminals. He murdered…five thousand people, I believe. Give or take, we were unable to trace the exact number as the notebook has the ability to kill in multiple methods.”

Light was glaring hatefully at him, but he stopped bucking, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to breathe under L’s weight.

Hermione covered her mouth with her fingers. “Wow. That’s…impressive.”

All three of them gave her looks, making her blush. “No, but it is. I mean, five thousand criminals…that’s more people than the worldwide magical community could prosecute successfully in half a decade. Not that I’m condoning it…though I mean, why do you let him keep the weapon if you know he’s been killing with it?”

L sighed. “We needed it because we thought we were to visit the Shinigami realm. Besides, Light has been…rehabilitated. He lost his memories as Kira as a part of his plan to shake my suspicion of him. However, once he regained them as planned, he did not become wholly Kira once more. He lost conviction in his cause, and I was able to show him the big picture and change his views. I believe I can trust him with the notebook now. He will never attempt to play God again, and his lapses are always temporary, progressively decreasing in intensity. Ron can testify to his sanity.”

Hermione looked doubtful. “So _this_ isn’t intense?”

Light mumbled tiredly into his palm, and L cracked a small smile. “No, it isn’t. It’s quite tame in comparison, but Light is strong. He always overcomes them. I have tested them under several conditions, they are quite temporary.”

The boy jerked his head to the side, displacing L’s hand from his mouth. “L, please. Get off.”

L gave him a stern look. “Are you sure you are going to behave yourself?”

The boy sighed, exhausted.

“Yeah, L. I’ll behave. Just, please.”

L was about to let go of Light’s hands and stand up when Harry fidgeted in his place. “Wait. L. Don’t release him yet. Whatever it is…You-Know-Who wants this book. We need to destroy it.”

L felt a chill go down his spine. He’d known it was coming, it was inevitable, the easiest solution, but it was so close to what the Horcrux had shown Light. It was too soon.

Light stiffened. “No. Please, no.”

L ran his fingers through the boy’s hair, trying to comfort him. “Raito-kun, relax. Your memories will remain intact. We have the pieces, remember?”

Light’s face crumpled as he strained in L’s hold. “L, don’t do this. Please, L. I never used it, you said you won’t destroy it if I promise never to use it again.” His breaths were shallow and fast, his cheeks flushed pink.

Harry picked up the notebook, the bedsheet bundled up around his fingers. “L, how do we destroy it? Do we need a special magical object?”

L gritted his teeth. The wizards were right, the Death Note was an evil object, and given in the wrong hands, it could cause mass destruction of an unknowable order. Light had no reason to worry, he had his piece keeping his memories anchored to him. Destroying the Death Note itself wouldn’t matter. “Burn it.”

Light’s eyes widened, his face draining of colour. “Y-you can’t be serious. L, you swore to me. You promised.”

“Raito-kun, you have your memories, you have nothing to complain about-”

“N-no, L, you don’t get it, what if…if we need to Death Note to get back home?”

“We won’t. Misa got here, and she doesn’t have a Death Note in her possession. Hers is still locked away.”

“B-but it exists, doesn’t it? What if…what if we’re stranded here b-because we burned it…?”

L caressed the boy’s face, ignoring how he seemed to be trembling with fear. “We have the pieces. You yourself said that the Death Note works even in pieces.”

“I-I’ve never tested it, L…I don’t _know._ Please don’t do this, please, I can’t forget again, not after so much time, I-I don’t know how much I’ll forget this time, it’s been s-so long…”

Harry cleared his throat. “L, can I burn it?”

L closed his eyes, weighing the options. It was an obvious choice, it was best to burn the notebook. It was the perfect solution. And yet, it would be a violation of Light’s trust, of their pact, and it would hurt him. The boy was so afraid.

“There is no reason the piece should stop working, Raito-kun.” To his horror, Light’s eyes glimmered with tears.

“B-but what if it does-”

“Burn it, Potter.”

“L! L, no, stop, stop, _stop!”_ He thrashed where he was pinned down, trying desperately to crawl over to Potter, who dropped the notebook to the ground and readied the wand that Hermione had returned to him.

_“Incendio.”_

Light screamed as the spell hit the cover of the book, but nothing happened.

L slapped his forehead in frustration. “Oh, no, the Death Note has magical immunity. You cannot burn it with a spell.”

“Right.” Hermione tossed Harry a stray piece of firewood they had collected for their cooking pot. The bespectacled boy held it like a club, lighting up the top with a quick _Incendio_ , then placing the flat of it by the Death Note’s pages, ready to catch fire. Light’s chest heaved as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Seeing Light’s reaction, L himself was waiting for his features to relax, for his eyes to open wide and blank the way they had so many, many months ago, the first time the boy had written off his memories.

But nothing happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this count as a cliffhanger? I hate cliffhangers myself, but hey, sometimes they can't be helped :D
> 
> Review and comment! You know the drill! XD


	20. The Sword of Gryffindor

Light laughed.

It was an unimpressive, raspy laughter, but it was his best under the circumstances. Shouting for so long had dried out his throat, and being forced onto the ground with a grown man sitting on his chest hadn’t helped (considering all that, his laugh was more than acceptable).

_The Shinigami realm_ , he had forgotten all about the Shinigami realm. He should never have bothered struggling for the Note in the first place, the rules of the Shinigami were protecting the notebook the _whole time_.

After all, the part of the reason he accepted the Ryuk’s offer to go to the Shinigami realm had been to protect the notebook from being burnt. No notebook could be destroyed in the Shinigami realm, so Light had planned to hide his Note there, thereby ensuring that nobody could take away his memories again (the rule that stated that he had to maintain contact with the notebook every 120 days or so to keep his memories, it was bogus, Ryuk admitted to it soon before Light accepted his offer).

The other reason he had accepted the offer was because Ryuk would cease all contact with him once he entered the realm. Their contract to stay with the human who possessed ownership of the note would expire the minute the human stepped out of their dimension.

It had been the perfect plan, and it cracked Light up that he had given up on it the minute he landed in this new magical world. He had thought he was lost, that there was no way he could dream of venturing to the Shinigami realm again (Ryuk had mentioned it being a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity), but the evidence had been right in front of his nose the whole time.

The Note’s force field, its repulsion of magic and anything that may destroy it, it was obviously protecting itself. The Death Note could not be destroyed in the Shinigami realm, and perhaps it couldn’t be destroyed in any other realm either.

This was brilliant, absolutely brilliant. All he had to do was hide the Note here and he was home free. No need to worry about L’s arsonist tendencies, about Ryuk attempting to kill him because he was bored of spending so much time on Earth, there was _nothing_ he needed to worry about anymore, everything was solved if this dimension acted as the Shinigami one.

His laughter was becoming more and more painful with the weight of L pressing down on him. He ended it with a hollow cough, the mad grin remaining as a souvenir of his ecstasy.

“You can’t destroy it.” And seeing that forlorn, nearly-frightened expression on L’s face was enough to start him off on another bout of maniacal laughter. “You can’t burn it…not here! You can’t destroy it!” He said as he cackled, tipping his head back and letting out the ecstasy of the win.

“Raito-kun, what is it you know?” L asked softly, prompting another maniacal bout.

“What is it I know?” He stopped his laughter abruptly and propped himself up on his elbows, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “I know you lost, L. You lost, you lying, thieving prick.” Their noses were almost touching, but Light didn’t feel a single ounce of impulse to pull away. He wanted to shove it in his face. Did the detective think he could betray Light that way, that he could humiliate him and win?

L flinched. “Explain. Why isn’t it burning?”

“I knew that the Death Note is protected in the Shinigami realm, but like an idiot I had ignored all the signs that it is protected in this one too. You can’t burn it, you can’t destroy any part of it. I’m so stupid, I’d forgotten the whole reason I had wanted to visit the Shinigami in the first place!”

L cocked his head curiously. Light smirked. “What, did you think I wanted to sightsee?”

Hermione interjected. “Okay, this is bullshit. I am going to stab this thing with the sword of Gryffindor.”

“And what do you think that will do?” Light shot out. Hermione threw her hands in the air.

“I don’t know! But it’s an evil object, as evil as the Horcruxes, so why wouldn’t it work?”

Light sneered. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s protected here, it _cannot be destroyed_.”

“I get that! But we have to _try.”_ Hermione took the sword from Harry, who had placed it at the foot of her bed. “Put…put the book in front of me, Harry.”

Harry tried picking the book up with the sheet he used as a functional glove, but the book burned an exposed finger, and the Boy-Who-Lived dropped it with a squawk.

“Oh, bloody hell, Hermione, just go over and stab the bloody thing, will you?” Ron snapped. Light looked over at the redheaded wizard who, he noticed, had been sending him concerned looks ever since the destruction of the Horcrux, even after Light had levitated him. Their eyes met now, blue on golden-brown, and on witnessing that deeply worried expression, Light wondered if he had somehow accidentally made a friend.

Hermione walked over to where the book was lying, brandishing her sword like a wand (wand, wand, _shit!_ He had forgotten his wand! How could he have forgotten to use his wand in his mess, _fucking hell)_ and stopping in front of it, closing her eyes and muttering a little prayer. Under L, Light tried to wiggle as little as possible, slipping his hand closer and closer to where his wand was tucked into the waistband of his jeans. He bit his lip but kept his eyes wide open and fixed on L. The detective should not suspect he was reaching for a potential weapon.

Hermione took a deep breath. “Alright, here we go.” She swung the sword down on the book.

Light screamed.

His entire body was on fire, his nerves pulsed with energy. It felt disturbingly similar to the Cruciatus curse but worse, somehow. This time everything _burned_ , as if he had been dipped in acid and then rolled around on a bed of coals. He was simultaneously too present in the actual world and too separate from it. Burned, it _burned_ , he tried to let it out with the loudest scream he could muster but it didn’t help in the slightest.

His fingers closed around the cold stem of his wand, and suddenly, all the pulsating energy inside him got a channel, the burning turned exhilarating, was it power he was feeling? _Power?_ The torturous pain in his head slowly turned more into a throbbing, then an almost pleasant hum.

All of a sudden, he realised that he was sobbing. Sobbing like a little child, and enclosed in the wiry arms of someone who was attempting to shield him from harm. When he opened his eyes, blinking away the abundant tears (how embarrassing) every light seemed like a piercing flash on his retina, scalding him. He raised his hand to block it out, but then he didn’t need to because a pale face with huge dark eyes came forward to block it for him.

“Raito…Raito-kun, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, are you okay? Please say something, oh God.” The detective seemed close to tears himself. _“Say something_ , Raito, does it hurt?”

“Mm…” Light raised his hand to scrub at the wetness over his cheeks, not realising that it was the hand that held his silver-white wand until it was inches from his face. He blinked, his eyes wide. “Whoa.”

The wand was glowing, a silvery aura thick around its tip. Strange patterns had drawn themselves into the previously unmarked, smooth surface, rivulets of molten silver, glimmering and sparkling in the light. Light ran a finger over one of the etchings, and they were _freezing_ , as if the patterns leached the heat from the air.

Light dropped it in shock. It landed on his chest, and the patterns all disappeared at once, the aura receding until it was just a stick of white wood again.

Frowning, he picked it back up, and the patterns returned.

“What is this…?” He looked up at the Golden Trio, who were all gaping at him. Ron was kneeling at his side, next to L’s lap where Light’s head appeared to be resting. Harry and Hermione were bundled up together, the sword dropped at their feet, discarded beside the Death Note.

_The Death Note!_

“What did you do?”  Light launched himself up, his muscles trembling with exhaustion as he did. His knees buckled, and he would have come crashing down had it not been for L jumping to his own feet and grabbing Light at the waist, steadying him. “What did you…oh, man.” He dipped his head, nausea hitting him hard. “Oh, L, goddamn. Let…let me go, L, I need to puke.”

Light scrambled out of the tent as quickly as he could, going straight for the nearest patch of scraggly grass he could see, feeling the slightest tinge of déjà vu as he fell to his knees. Of course, there was nothing in his stomach to empty, so he just retched into the grass, panting as he waited.

His head hurt, everything hurt, it felt like he had been through the wringer and thrown off a cliff, it felt like they had replaced his bones with white-hot iron rods. He whimpered, hugging his stomach, his chin touching his chest as he tried to get his breathing under control.

He had expected a hunched shadow to be watching him from the entrance to the camp, hands stuffed into his pockets and face uncharacteristically crumpled in worry. He was not disappointed. Light streaked his hands over his cheeks, wiping away the residual wetness that froze in the winter wind, and gave L a look over his shoulder.

The detective took that as permission to come forward and stop right behind him, dropping to a crouch but not daring to touch him. “Okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Light’s voice was hoarse. He frowned and touched his throat.

“You’re not fine, not after that. Tell me what happened.” Tentatively, L brushed his fingers over the boy’s upper arm. Light didn’t try flinching away. L’s touch had always been comforting in its own way, no matter how angry he was with the man.

Light stood up, dusting off the knees of his jeans. “No, you tell me what happened. Did they…?”

L shook his head matter-of-factly. “The Death Note is intact. The sword didn’t make a dent. But you…you screamed the minute the sword touched the book.” L’s hand wrapped around his arm. “I was…you screamed for a long time, Raito. I was so _afraid_. Hermione…” He let out a shaky laugh. “She cast a _Quietus_ on you after a little while, I almost kicked her. Y-you started to cry.”

Light reddened. “Yeah. Um. I wouldn’t mind if you…never mentioned that again.”

L laughed breathily again. “Oh, Raito.” He wrapped around his shoulders in a firm hug. “Why do you do this to me?”

Light shrugged him off. “No hugging, L. You’re not forgiven.” He loosened his fingers around his wand, elbowing L to give him space as he examined it. His wand had been plain before, just a hunk of wood, not nearly as elaborate as any of the others Fleur had brought in. These carvings, they had come out of nowhere, and they were distinctly beautiful, made of curving lines and sharp twists.

“The sword.” Both of them said simultaneously, looking at each other.

Light gulped. “I need to test it.”

“Wingardium Leviosa?”

The brunet pursed his lips. “I think when I was screaming, I felt…I felt power. Power entered the wand. The sword, it’s made me more powerful than before, and you said the Death Note is unchanged.” Light mused. “The Death Note didn’t change, but the wand changed when the power entered it. That could mean…I need to test it on...something relevant.” He glanced up at L, whose eyes grew wide.

“Light, no-”

_“Wingardium Leviosa!”_

L screeched as he slowly but steadily lifted from the ground, his legs kicking as he tried to swim his way back down. “Put me down! _Light!_ Put me down, Light, right _now!”_

“Hah! This has so many implications! This is goddamn fucking amazing!” Light cried, both hands on his dulling wand as he forced it to keep steady. “It’s so hard to maintain, I can feel it giving up, but it works, L! The Note must have transferred the power of the sword into the owner, me, to keep itself protected! But since I’m not a magical object, it couldn’t destroy me indirectly that way. So…so I’m acting as a vessel for the power of the sword! Do you get what that _means,_ L?”

The detective whimpered as he grabbed hold of his knees, curling into the foetal position as he wobbled high up in the air. “Put me down, Light. Oh, oh, _merde, bordel de merde.”_

Light blinked. “Is that…French?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. _“Baise cette merde, bon dieu, tu vas amener l’Enfer sur terre.”_ The detective began to bite frantically into his thumb.

Light cracked a grin. “Why do I feel like you’re cursing at me?”

“Light, I swear to God, put me down. _Please!”_

“Okay, okay.” He gently lowered the detective back down. The minute his feet touched the ground, L fell back against it, gathering his knees up and wrapping his arms around it. “Oh, sweet mother Mary.”

Light’s grin was painfully wide. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“Oh, fuck off, Light. If I ever levitate you in the air with magic, you’ll see.”

The three wizards inside the camp had come running out, staring open-mouthed at the spectacle before them. Hermione raised her wand. “Hey! Step away from him!”

L waved his hand at them, giving Light a glare. “It’s okay, forget it. He’s not a threat. He’s just incorrigible.”

“I didn’t know you’re French.” Light darted a glance at the wild-haired detective, who simply sneered at him, refusing to answer.

Ron was incredulous. “What, so you discovered that you can use that charm on people and you decide to use it on everyone?”

“Not everyone.” Light twirled his wand in his hand. “I’m not psychotic.”

“Are you sure about that?” Hermione muttered, to Light’s disdain. He didn’t particularly like the Brightest Witch of Her Age.

Light gave her a sharp look. “I was testing my wand, with L’s consent.”

“My _consent?”_ L scoffed. “Don’t you dare try that again, Yagami-kun, or I’ll levitate you right back.”

“Ah, but you _can’t.”_ Light sniggered. “Maybe next time you’ll think a little before trying to slice a magical notebook with a magical sword.”

“What does that mean?” Hermione’s eyes widened under her wild mane. “I thought the notebook was unaffected!”

“Yeah, well, it was unaffected for a reason.” Light smirked. “This means…every time the Note blocks magic, it must be channelling it into me, its owner. That could explain why we have powers at all, and why I’m so much more powerful than you. I wonder what could happen if I give up ownership. Will I keep the extra power or will I become like you?” He shrugged. “I’m not trying it out, though.”

Everyone was at a loss for words. Quietly, L got to his feet. “Light. Let’s go inside.”

Hermione ran a hand through her abundant curls. “Okay, so from what I’ve gathered, you’re both wizards because of the notebook? Your powers are linked to it, and because it’s yours…” She pointed at Light. “…you’re more powerful? And because I stabbed it with Gryffindor’s sword, you’re _more_ powerful?”

Light gave her a tight smile. “That about sums it up.”

“You have the power of Gryffindor’s sword inside you, along with the power of the magical weapon You-Know-Who thinks is stronger than the Elder Wand? That would make you the most powerful wizard in the world!”

Light grinned.

“Bloody hell.” She muttered, making Ron smile faintly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of the French (for those too busy to use Google Translate): "shit, fucking shit." "fuck this shit, God, you'll bring hell to Earth"
> 
> Haha the next chapter is my absolute favourite, you'll see why when I post it (though I probably cannot post in 24 hours as usual because I'll be out without my laptop for most of tomorrow).
> 
> Comment, comment, comment, it's my favourite feature of AO3 and lets me know you guys are liking the story! :D


	21. Wild Card

They entered the camp, and Light made a beeline for the Note, which was still lying on the ground beside the silver sword. He gathered it in his arms, hugging it close to his chest, checking carefully and needlessly for any sign of damage.

Everyone settled down on some available spot, L picking the middle of the bed because there would be the most comfortable place to sit in his favourite posture. To Light’s surprise, Ron opted to sit beside him on Harry’s bunk rather than join the others on Hermione’s. He started to wonder if Ron’s sudden attraction towards him was out of friendly concern or a keep-your-enemies-closer kind of sentiment.

His doubts disappeared when Ron finally decided to open his mouth. “Well, this is great news, isn’t it? We have perhaps the most powerful wizard in the world on our side!”

Light couldn’t help laughing. That was such a Matsuda thing to say.

Ron looked doubtfully at him, his smile slipping. “You…are on our side, aren’t you?”

Light gave him a mocking grin. “Oh, you’ll never know. I’m a wild card.”

“This is no joking matter, Yagami.” Harry Potter stood up, his eyes severe behind his round spectacles. “With You-Know-Who’s intentions towards you, and your own reputation as a mass-murderer in your own world, I need you to tell me you are on our side.”

“Preferably with Veritaserum.” Hermione grabbed her little pink handbag, hunting through it. “Oh, I know I have it somewhere in here.”

Ron gave her a blank look. “Hermione, why are you carrying Veritaserum?”

The girl shrugged, giving him a wry smile. “Just in case.”

Light let out a disbelieving chuckle. “You’re all insane if you think I’m going to drink anything to convince you.”

Everyone paused. Ron cleared his throat. “Um…Light. I don’t think…?”

“Why exactly do I have to convince you of anything? I’m the more powerful one here, I’m the one with all the playing cards.” He raised his palms in a smugly exaggerated mockery of surrender, making sure to let his newly decorated white wand dangle loosely in his grasp. “You people appear to think you’re in any position to negotiate, but the Dark Lord is looking for me, and I need to get to him to get home.”

L stood up, his jaw tight. _“Light.”_

“What? How else are we going to get home, L? We have no idea where Ryuk is. Misa’s looking for me, she’s our ticket back!”

Ron looked beyond despondent. “Light, you’re…you’re joking, right? We’re in a bad spot right now, pal, we need your help. Without you…we could all die. This mission, it’s crazy…”

Light raised his chin. “Then maybe act like you need my help.”

“Raito-kun, is this really the time for your childish nonsense?” L sounded exasperated, but Light spotted that small amused smile quirk his lips for half a millisecond.

Light shrugged, tossing his wand in the air and catching it. The glow around it barely managed to fade. “I don’t know, you guys haven’t exactly been nice to me. I don’t know why I should help you.”

Hermione balled up her fists, striding forward towards him. “I don’t know who you think you are, you stuffed-shirt git, but while you’re doing your little drama over here, people are dying. You-Know-Who has killed thousands, it’s practically genocide!”

Light raised a brow. “Look, give me one good reason why I should give a shit.”

Hermione gawked at him, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “People…people are being murdered by psychopaths! I thought…I thought you killed psychopaths! That was your reasoning, wasn’t it? For…for your murders, in your world?”

“Good argument, but.” Light raised a finger. “I didn’t kill psychopaths. I killed criminals. They aren’t the same thing.”

Harry stepped forward, incensed. “Are you playing with us, Yagami?”

Light rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine. This is pointless, it looks like you are incapable of treating people with respect. What exactly do you want from me?”

“Some cooperation would be good, for starters.” L muttered from his corner. Light was amused.

“Why are _you_ so stuck on their side, L? You don’t have any investment in them either.”

L shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t have any investment in them. But I’ve always wanted to defeat a magical Hitler and his Nazis.”

Light opened his mouth, about to say something, but L immediately loped over, turning to Harry and Hermione. “Look, don’t worry. He’s fine, he’ll stay on the side I’m on. You don’t have to worry about him. What we need to worry about is hiding the notebook somewhere secure.”

“Why, that’s awfully presumptuous of you, L.”

L whipped around, striding over until he was almost nose to nose with Light. “It is not presumptuous, it is the truth. Do you understand?”

His eyebrows rose. “I most certainly do not understand. What makes you think-”

L shoved forward, and there was suddenly a weight pushing back against Light’s mouth. Light leaned back, eyes large, supporting himself on his perch as the detective kissed him, aggressive and dominating, pressing hard against him and raking his teeth over his bottom lip. It reminded him of that night on the roof when L had followed it up with a fist to his face. Light let out a muffled cry, trying to break away, but L just knotted his cold fingers in Light’s auburn hair, forcing him to stay in place as he pressed onto the teenager’s lips, fighting his way in. When Light finally gave and let him open his mouth, L took the opportunity with relish, tipping the boy’s head back and kissing him hard.

Finally, after what felt like hours and a microsecond, the detective pulled away, his mouth a hard line and his cheeks flushed. His midnight eyes bored into Light’s, and he could see behind all the bravado L was beyond frightened, studying Light intensely to see if he had gone too far.

Light’s breaths were shallow and fast, his face hot. He opened his mouth and closed it again, speechless. L saw something in that that he liked, drawing back with a slight smile and turning around to face the Golden Trio, who had unanimously gone scarlet.

“Now, give me a good secret place to hide something valuable.” L held up the Death Note between his index finger and thumb. Light floundered when he realised L had slipped the book out of his grasp without him noticing.

Harry blinked rapidly. “Well, I don’t know. The Room of Requirement is a good option, but it’s in Hogwarts, and we can’t get into Hogwarts.”

L frowned. “Why not?”

“Well, because it’s run by Snape. And, presumably, Death Eaters. There’s no way we can get there, anyway, it’s a no-Apparition zone.”

Light swallowed. “Hagrid’s Hut isn’t.” His voice was ever so croaky.

Harry blinked at him. “Yes, it is.”

“No, it isn’t. Lupin and Fleur fetched us from there. They apparated to get there, so. I guess they don’t consider it part of the school anymore.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Unless…” Hermione mused. “Unless Dumbledore. Dumbledore must have lifted the Apparition rule in Hagrid’s Hut for the Order, to help us get to a secret safe spot easily. That’s the only way it makes any sense.”

Light adjusted himself in his seat. “Yeah, I don’t think anybody cares. Are you going now?”

Hermione thought for a minute. “After a night’s sleep, I think. We need to be rested.”

 “And it’s _we_ , Light.” L piped up, giving Light a sharp look. Light’s cheeks flooded pink, more embarrassed than he could ever remember being.

“Yeah, I think I’m good with that.” Light murmured, grabbing his pack from where Hermione had dropped it, and stalked outside to get some air.

* * *

Ron wasn’t sure what he was doing outside, watching Light from the shadows of the trees.

The boy had settled down on a rock behind a tree, relatively out of sight of the camp proper, digging through the pack for something. The redhead skulked over to get a better look, and couldn’t suppress his smile.

Light had retrieved one of L’s hard-won candy bars, unwrapping it carefully as he set the bag aside. Wrapper discarded, he took a careful bite off the corner and closed his eyes, settling his head against the tree trunk and appearing to relish the taste…though Ron knew Light’s sweet tooth was non-existent. He hadn’t even eaten Bill’s famous walnut pie, and that Ron had seen people (nearly) kill for a slice of that pie. He strongly suspected Fleur married Bill just because of the slice he had given her on their first date.

Ron bit his lip, wondering if he should approach the brunet. He seemed to peaceful right then, the wind tousling his red-brown hair and giving the tip of his nose a pink flush, and after what L just did…he didn’t think anyone would want to be alone after what he just did.

When the two of them had first interacted with him in the cottage, Ron had thought they were kind of cute, the kind of couple that everyone left alone because it would be no fun to tease them. There was no tension between them, it was as if they loved each other without question, almost childishly.

Now, though, Ron was starting to see the kind of abusive pattern he had seen between Ginny and Michael Corner, back when those two had had their little dance in Fourth Year. Corner would just kiss her out of nowhere and make her all flustered, and then ask her out on a date. Of course, Ginny had fired back with a jinx or two, showed him who was boss, but Light hadn’t done that. Light had…folded. It was a strange sight to see from the fiery young man, and unsettling. It made Ron feel unquestioningly protective of his friend.

He had almost socked L for doing that, and right in front of everybody, but he hadn’t had the guts.

Ron sighed. He _hadn’t had the guts._ Maybe he should leave him alone, he wasn’t exactly the best person to be helping anyone anyway.

Light cracked open a caramel-brown eye, not bothering to move from his position. “Why are you spying on me, Ron? I’m not going anywhere.”

Ron gulped, flustered. “I-I know. I wasn’t…spying.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Just…just enjoying the view!” He declared, loping forward and squatting beside the brunet.

“Right.” Light took another bite of the candy bar, chewing and swallowing. His lips were smudged with a slightest bit of chocolate. Ron barely suppressed the urge to wipe it off (lick it off? It did look good). “Want some?”

Ron inclined his head. “Sure.” He broke off a piece and popped it in his own mouth. “Trying to get rid of his stash?” He asked in between chews, the sweet flavour bursting on his tongue.

Light sighed. “No. No, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, I figured sugar would help.”

Ron’s eyes shifted around, uncomfortable. “Light…I’m really…I wish I’d stopped him…I just didn’t realise…”

Light’s expression hardened. “Can we not talk about that?”

“Yeah. Yeah…I’m sorry.” Ron stammered. Light tilted his head forward, taking another bite of candy.

“It’s okay. It’s good you didn’t stop him, he would probably have kicked your ass. I _was_ being an asshole.”

Ron gaped. “Are you justifying it? Light, you didn’t deserve that!”

Light smiled. “You’re making this a bigger deal than it is, Ron. Chill out.”

“Chill out? Seriously? He…he…” The redhead spluttered. Light broke off a piece of candy and offered it to him. Flabbergasted, the boy took it, chewing nervously.

“Is this chocolate filled with muggle drugs or something? Is that why you’re not freaking out?”

Light laughed. “Ron, oh my god. No. No, Ryuuzaki…L and I…our relationship is just like this. I don’t know. He told you I’m a murderer and he’s the detective in charge of catching me, right?”

“Yeah, he did. But…but I get being influenced by magical objects into doing…things. My sister, she was possessed by a Horcrux, they made her do terrible things too. It didn’t mean she deserved to be hurt, or that she’s a bad person.”

Light studied him, contemplative. “Well…I’m definitely not saying I’m a bad person. I’m saying my relationship with L is complicated.”

Ron grimaced. “So you’re saying you two are dating, then?”

“No, what? When did I say that?”

“If you’re not dating, he doesn’t have any right to kiss you.”

Light stared at him. “Ron, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying…I’m saying what he did was _wrong_ , and you should be more pissed off.”

Light blinked, then fell back against the tree with a deep sigh. “Nope, I’m way too tired for this. I think I’ll take a nap right here.” His head lolled slightly on the bark of the tree.

Without thinking, Ron touched the back of Light’s head, prompting him to take the support of the redhead’s shoulder. The brunet did, resting his head in the crook of his neck, and Ron could smell his fresh shampoo.

Light let out a breath. “It’s been a really long day, hasn’t it? First the three mile walk, courtesy you, then the Horcrux, the whole Death Note debacle, me getting my weird-ass powers and then this. I’m _drained_.”

Ron fidgeted, twisting his fingers together. “I don’t blame you.”

Light licked his lips unconsciously. “Listen, Ron. I was…I was a first class dick in there. I shouldn’t have said a lot of things I said. I’m…I’m definitely on your side, alright? I wouldn’t abandon you to doom and death at the hands of the Dark Lord.” He smiled. “Besides, I’m a sucker for glory.”

“I know that, Light. You’re a good guy.”

The teenager let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, well. That’s a matter of perspective. I was just…I was just kind of mad at your girlfriend. Hermione. She’s sneaky.”

“Are you saying that because she took your backpack?”

Light grinned. “Yeah, I mean. It was a dick move, stealing my stuff. She could have tried asking first.”

“And I guess you’d just have handed it over if she had.”

Light elbowed him in the ribs. “I thought you wanted to comfort me here. Not that I need it, but you might as well do your job.”

Ron smirked. “My job, right.”

“Speaking of Hermione, though, shouldn’t you be there with her? I mean, after that month-long separation and all.”

Ron paused, pursing his lips. After a few seconds, Light raised his head from the redhead’s shoulder, giving him a concerned look. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Hermione, you’re right, I should be with her. She’s probably really bleeding angry with me.”

Light’s eyebrows drew down. “Um. Ron. Doesn’t that mean you should go fix it?”

Ron studied the wilderness. It was becoming dark, the purple shadows long over the wintery sky, the snow glowing mystically in the half-light.

“You want me to go?”

Light looked bewildered. “No…no, it’s fine if you stay, but…I mean, shouldn’t you go?”

Ron sighed, noticing that his breath was ever so foggy. “I guess I should, but…I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

Ron shrugged. “There’s…history between us that you don’t know about. Harry and Hermione…they’ve always been…closer. They never fight, they’re just better for each other. I mean, who would choose _me_ over the _Chosen One?”_

There was a moment’s pause, and just when Ron was going to break the silence, Light burst out laughing. The redhead stared at him, stricken, slowly turning crimson.

In between laughs, Light reached out to put his hand on Ron’s shoulder. “Ron…goddamn it, you’re just…brilliant.”

Soberly, Ron shook him off. “It wasn’t a joke, Light.”

“I know, that’s why it’s so hilarious.” The brunet laughed, rocking back and forth. Ron felt a twisting in his stomach. Abruptly, he stood up, making to walk away.

Light reached over and grabbed his arm, trying to suppress the rest of his laughter. “Ron. _Ron_. Hold up. Listen.”

“I didn’t say that to be mocked by you, Light.”

“I know. I know, just…” He stood up, facing the redhead. “Look. Harry is a boring stick in the mud, and I for one would choose you over him every time.”

Ron froze.

“You don’t know him well enough yet. He’s not boring, not really. He’s the Chosen One. The Boy-Who-Lived. How can he be boring?”

Light’s lips quirked. The wind blew his silky auburn hair onto his face. “I know his type. Boring with a capital B, can barely crack a decent joke on purpose, good old ‘Aw Shucks I’m Not The Chosen One I’m Too Ordinary’ routine while doing great at everything cool just to reinforce how special he is.”

Ron mused. “That’s pretty accurate, actually. But with Harry, it’s not an act.”

“Oh, I never said it was an act. If it was, he’d be a whole lot more interesting. You’re much more fun, you’re cool and easy to hang out with, and you’re pretty good at tutoring magic. I mean it, if I had to, I’d choose you over him any day of the week.”

Ron felt a warmth in his chest, and his hands began to tremble ever so slightly. He didn’t dare open his mouth, he wasn’t sure what would come out of it.

Light patted his shoulder. “Now go talk to your girlfriend.”

But as he stared into those intelligent caramel-gold eyes, as he watched the boy raise a hand to sweep his silky red-brown hair out of his eyes, cheeks flushed in the crisp air…

Ron realised that maybe he didn’t really want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really cannot help it XD Romione shippers don't kill me XD
> 
> Well, since this turned out to be an early update instead of a late one, I guess I can officially call myself obsessed.
> 
> Review the chapter! I want to know what you think! :D


	22. Potterwatch

The next morning, Light woke up to the sound of merry laughter. He groaned, covering his ears with the jacket he had folded up to use as a pillow, wincing at the daylight that seemed suddenly all-pervading. The crackling of the radio, the overly happy voices of a daytime newscaster and his guest were filling the tent, making Light wonder how he had slept through it for so long.

 _“And the rumours that he’s been sighted abroad?”_ One of the annoyingly high-pitched newscasters (wait, wasn’t he from Potterwatch?) asked.

Light sat up as the guest made his answer. _“Well, who wouldn’t want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he’s been putting in?”_ He rubbed his eyes, eyeing the people surrounding the wireless radio, their wands suspended on it as they listened in to the broadcast. Ron caught him looking first, his broad smile widening as he gestured for him to join them.

Light crawled over as the newscaster finished his snarky little story. _“Maybe he is and maybe he isn’t, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don’t count on him being a long way away if you’re planning to take any risks. I never thought I’d hear myself say it, but safety first!”_ Light cracked a smile, more at the hearty laughs of Harry, Hermione and Ron than at the juvenile humour itself.

_“Thank you very much for those wise words, Rapier. This brings us to the conclusion of today’s Potterwatch. We’ll broadcast again when we can, and the password for next time is Mad-Eye. See you then!”_

Harry and Hermione chittered excitedly as the radio descended into a steady crackle.

“This is amazing news! You-Know-Who is abroad.”

Harry’s smile flickered. “Yes, but…that means he’s resuming his search for the Elder Wand. That might not be good news…while he’s looking for the Death Note we at least know where it is and we can protect it. We don’t even know where the Elder Wand is.”

Light looked around. “Um, actually, where is the Death Note?”

Ron gestured at the entrance to the tent. “L took it outside. Apparently, the most obvious place is the least likely to garner suspicion. He refused to tell us where he’s hiding it, apparently the less we know the better.”

Light huffed. “So he’s burying it in the forest, then.”

Ron raised his eyebrows. “What?”

Light shook his head dismissively. “He has no ideas of his own, does he? Hiding it in the forest is my thing.”

Hermione looked impressed. “You have to admit, it’s quite brilliant. You-Know-Who isn’t going to search our campsites for the book. I think we should go help him cast protective charms over it.” She gave Light a cursory glance. “Not you, though. It’s better if you don’t know exactly where it is.”

Light narrowed his eyes. “I’m on your side, now, aren’t I? Chill out.”

Harry gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, mate. Apart from destroying the Horcrux, you haven’t done much to gain our trust.” The two of them headed out to find L. Ron dallied behind, looking undecided. Light gave him an amused smile, tipping his head back lazily.

“What’re you waiting for?”

Ron opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but then changed his mind and hurried outside. Light sighed, stretching and getting to his feet, following the smell of food to the small flickering campfire (which he was sure was used to try to burn the Death Note this morning) over which hung an iron pot of stew.

“Ugh, British food.” _What_ _he would do for some rice and miso soup right now…_

He used his designer wand to heat up the food (making sure not to release too much power, the problem with being powerful appeared to be an affinity for destruction) and took a tentative bite, cringing as he revelled in how right he had been about its taste (it was disgusting).

“Hey.” Ron was back, sitting cross-legged beside him and taking his own scoop of the stew. “Aw, man, Harry’s cooking. I mean, not that Hermione and I are any better, but…”

“So it’s not supposed to taste like this, then?”

Ron grinned as he ate another spoon. “No, definitely not.”

“Yeah, this country’s food isn’t particularly impressive. Not that I’ve gotten to try the gourmet stuff or anything, so maybe I’m not being fair.”

Ron guffawed. “You’re prejudiced against the British, now? What, Japanese food is so much better?”

“Loads.” Light drained his stew, not realising how hungry he had been until he was done. Ron gave him a lingering look as he _scourgified_ the bowl and set it beside the rest. “I’d say-”

“Raito-kun, you’re finally up, then.” L came strolling into the tent, finding Light’s pack and rummaging through it for something sweet. He came across Light’s half-finished chocolate bar. “Did you eat my candy?”

Light shrugged, glancing at Ron and pausing in surprise at the intensely furious expression on the redhead’s face.

“You have plenty more.” Ron spat, his cheeks red and splotchy. Everyone in the tent, including the recently-arrived Hermione and Harry, goggled at Weasley, who ducked his head and went to keep the bowls away in Hermione’s bottomless bag.

“Right.” L seemed lost, his wide eyes shifting from Ron back to Light, as if asking for an explanation. Light shrugged again, running his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair. “Yes, well. The Death Note is disposed of. You will not be told the location, Raito-kun, because, in your own words, you are a wild card.”

“Look, L, if you don’t want me guessing where you’re hiding it, don’t use my old hiding places.”

The detective looked offended. “I did not use your old hiding place.”

“The forest. You know, where I kept it when I didn’t want you finding it? When I didn’t have my memories?”

L crossed his arms. “I am well aware of that. It is…a very practical place to store something that cannot be destroyed. However, since you do not know the exact location, it’s still okay.”

“Whatever. I was planning on hiding it away anyway.” Light tucked his legs under him where he sat. “So, what’s the latest on You-Know-Who? Are we going Horcrux hunting? Oh, and do you guys have a change of clothes? I feel disgusting.”

L walked over and ruffled Light’s hair fondly. “You’re so typical, Raito-kun.” Light noticed, with mounting alarm, that Ron appeared positively enraged by the contact. He had taken that kiss last night way too seriously, maybe Light should reiterate the nature of his and L’s relationship to him.

Light slapped L’s hand away. “Screw off, L, I’m not a fucking puppy.” Glancing over at Ron, he was glad to see the ginger wizard was placated.

L looked insulted, but passively drew away. “They have three Horcruxes to go. No idea where any of them is, apart from You-Know-Who’s pet snake, of course.”

Light drummed his fingers on his knee. “Well…that’s not good.”

Harry groaned, his hand going to his scar. “Yeah, that’s not the only thing that’s not good. Vol…You-Know-Who’s looking for the Elder Wand again, as if he’s given up the search for you. And he’s really angry, like furious, he’s just killing people left and right.”

Hermione made a sceptical sound. “Harry…the Elder Wand is a fairy tale. It’s…it’s just not likely to actually exist.”

“It does, Hermione. And he’s looking for it! You said the same thing about the Death Note, didn’t you?”

Hermione chuckled condescendingly. “The Death Note isn’t literally out of a children’s book.”

“ _Dumbledore_ gave us that children’s book! He had to have some reason to do that!”

Hermione nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, but I don’t think it was because one of the fairytales is _true_. I was thinking more of a kind of code, maybe he was trying to tell us something…” Hermione reached into her bag.

“No, Hermione! It’s not a bloody code, alright? It’s the Elder Wand, it _exists_ , why don’t you believe me?”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. “Well…because…you kind of sound like Luna. Like the stress is getting to you a bit. Maybe…maybe you need to relax, Harry. The quest has been hard-”

“ _Hermione!”_ Harry yelled, startling everyone. “How much proof do you need? Voldemort and I have a _psychic connection_ , I can read his fucking thoughts!”

_“Harry!”_

Light creased his brow. “Wait, isn’t there a Taboo on that name?”

In answer, several resounding cracks appeared outside their tent. Hermione’s eyes widened, she made a grab for her wand and flung a curse at Harry, whose knees instantly buckled as his hands went to his face. Multiple shadows appeared just outside the canvas drapes.

Light’s mouth dropped open. “What the fuck?” He raised his silver wand, but Ron grabbed his arm, forcing it down.

“Snatchers.” He whispered in his ear. “Don’t resist, there are too many of them. They'll kill you without batting an eye, especially if they have dementors or werewolves around.”

The shadows got darker as they closed in on the tent, and one deep, snarling voice piped up above the others.

“Come on out with your hands up! You’ve got half-a-dozen wands pointing at you, I’m sure you know how this works!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why, Harry, why?
> 
> On a side note: have any of you guys heard the OST Light Lights Up Light (yeah, I don't get this name XD) from the Death Note soundtrack? It's so beautiful, writing to it is just an experience of its own!
> 
> Review and comment! Give me your feedback! :D


	23. Name

“Well, well, well. Five little piggies, is it? Didn’t need to blow the house down, did I?” The feral man chortled, nudging the gibbering twat beside him to try and get a laugh at his terrible joke.

L was pretty sure that that man was a werewolf. Having been informed that werewolves exist (and that both Bill and Lupin were ‘of the breed’), he had been on the lookout for people with large scars, and this man had several, as well as teeth filed to resemble those of a canine. You couldn’t really get clearer than that unless you were shouting it from the rooftops.

Nervously, L snuck a glance at Light. Hermione’s move on Harry had been a stroke of genius, stinging and swelling up his face, the Boy-Who-Lived was an instantly recognisable mug all over the Wizarding world…but the Dark Lord was also looking for Light. He wasn’t a celebrity like Harry, but L should have done something, he should have cast a similar curse on him. What if…?

The teenager in question was raising his hands, palms up, mimicking Ron’s submissive posture with his wand held between his index finger and thumb. L had seen him dive for his pack moments before the Death Eaters stormed into the tent, slipping something into the pocket of his jeans. He was resourceful, L knew that intimately. Hopefully, he had grabbed something useful.

“Oy! Zombie-boy. What, you think you’re some kind of exception to the rule, eh?” The werewolf stalked up to him, raising the flat of his hand as if to slap him across the face. “Put your fucking wand in the air!”

L fumbled with the wand in his belt-loops (he hadn’t bothered to retrieve it once since they left Shell Cottage, magic just wasn’t his style). The werewolf groaned loudly, then smacked him hard across the face, raking it with his over-long fingernails. L staggered back, managing to whip his wand out and hold it up submissively.

“Hey! What is your problem? He was submitting!”

L almost slapped himself in the forehead, pained. _Raito-kun, don’t draw attention to yourself…_

The werewolf stomped over to Light, who lifted his chin defiantly, making a show of dropping his wand at the wolf’s feet. The werewolf snarled, stooping down to fetch the wand, examining it carefully before grabbing the boy’s face with a clawed hand, the nails making nicks in his cheeks as he pulled him closer. “Well, well. What’s your name, pretty boy?”

L felt his heartbeat pick up. If the Death Eater beside him had not just taken his wand, he would probably have thrown a curse at the werewolf and gotten them all killed

Light refused to be daunted, giving the wolf an icy glare. “Raye Delacour.”

“De-la-cour, eh?” The werewolf jerked him closer, making him stumble slightly. “You don’t _look_ like a Delacour.”

Light raised a cool eyebrow. “I take after my father. What’s it to you?”

“What’s it to me?” The werewolf suddenly roared with laughter, then hit Light over the ear, making him wobble for balance. “Do you even know what my job is, kid?” He gestured with a tilt of his chin for a Death Eater in a dirty gray robe to come over and bind Light’s hands behind his back. The teenager didn’t protest, biting his lip as they secured him.

The werewolf wandered over to Hermione. “Ah, smooth skin. You smell nice, don’t you? I’d love to just take a little bite…” The bushy-haired girl whimpered, making the werewolf giggle with pleasure. “Lovely, what is your name?”

“P-Penelope Clearwater.”

“And blood status?”

Hermione didn’t hesitate. “Half-blood.”

“Oh, that’s easy enough to check. What about you, ugly? What happened to your face?”

Harry prodded his swollen cheeks. “I…I was Stung.”

“Yes, I can see that. Name. Gosh, these kids take a nice long time to learn, don’t they?”

Harry licked his lips. “I’m…I’m Dudley. Vernon Dudley.”

The werewolf peered curiously at him. “Right, you look young enough to be at Hogwarts. What’re you doing out in the woods?”

Ron piped in there. “We wanted a vacation. It’s been…it’s been too hard studying for this long…thought we could just take a break, camp it out, have some…have some fun.”

The werewolf raised his shaggy eyebrows, sauntering over to the redhead. “Have some fun, eh, ginger? Have some fun talking dirty about the Dark Lord, is it, saying his name like you’re worthy of it?”

“W-we didn’t know…” Ron stammered. The werewolf guffawed.

“You didn’t know you had to show the Dark Lord his proper respect, eh? Do you know who else we see saying the Lord’s name in vain? Members of the Order of the Phoenix. Heard of it?”

Ron shook his head vigorously. The werewolf turned to L, who was trying to stand as straight as possible. “And you?”

“No, I have not heard of it.” L replied in his dry monotone. The werewolf seemed satisfied, loping around the tent, back to where Light was standing.

“And what about you, pretty boy? Have _you_ ever heard of the Order of the Phoenix?”

Light began to shake his head no, but the werewolf caught him by the jaw, stroking the underside of his chin with his yellowed nails. “Think hard, now. This is important.”

“I haven’t-”

The werewolf leaned in, sniffing Light’s collarbone. “Mm…you’re almost as soft as the girl. Lovely.” Light blanched, disgusted, and the wolf bared his fangs. “You’re exactly the type of boy I attack every full moon, you know that? Young, soft, sweet-smelling…”

 _“Leave him alone!”_ Ron yelled, making L jump beside him. “Don’t you bloody touch him!”

The werewolf gestured for his Death Eater minions to punch Ron hard in the stomach. The boy wheezed, bending double as the Snatchers bound his hands back.

“Name, ginger.”

“Stan Shunpike.”

“ _Wrong_ answer.” The werewolf drew his wand and hit Ron with a curse that made his mouth fill with blood. “Your real name.”

“Barry…Barry Weasley.”

“And we have another blood traitor Weasley! Wonderful news. You, Zombie-boy.”

“Regulus Whitby. Half-blood. Mother in the Ministry. Mudblood father sells potions to St. Mungo’s.”

Light blinked at him, startled. L was surprised himself, he hadn’t expected to lie with detail. Maybe the stress (and seeing Light being picked on by that damned-to-hell werewolf) was getting to him.

The werewolf, though, seemed placated. “Mother in the Ministry, eh? Good enough, she’ll be glad to get you back, I figure.”

“She’ll be gladder if you just leave us be, actually.” L didn’t bother making an expression. He knew that his blank face intimidated better than anything.

“Oh, no, she’ll be glad that I picked up her son in bad company and retrieved him to her. Who was it who said the name, anyway?” The werewolf turned to Light again, who visibly recoiled.

“Greyback! You’re going to want to take a look at this!” The werewolf’s companion, the one he had marched in beside, was gripping Harry by the hair, holding up the messy mop so his forehead was clearly displayed. Greyback loped over, leaning in and squinting. “Bloody hell! It’s a lightning scar!”

 _“Putain de merde.”_ L squeezed his eyes shut and cursed the Gods.

“We caught Harry freaking Potter!” Greyback squealed. “You’re Harry Potter, aren’t you?”

Harry shook his head helplessly. “No, I’m Dudley…”

“No, bloody hell, you’re Harry Potter! This is great!”

The minion beside him rubbed his hands together. “Are we going to take him to the Ministry?”

“No, definitely not. We’re taking him to the Dark Lord himself, or they’ll take all the credit!”

The minion licked his lips nervously. “Are we…are we summoning him here?”

“No, you idiot, I don’t have a Dark Mark. I can’t summon him.” Greyback rolled his eyes. “Bleeding idiots. We’re taking him to the Dark Lord’s headquarters, Malfoy Manor. Grab them.”

A Death Eater took a prisoner each, a snivelling dwarf-like one grabbing L by the back of his shirt and readying himself.

“Wait! Bring the other prisoners too, we’ll take them all. Oh, we’ll get a flood of galleons for this lot.” Greyback said eagerly, only a beat away from rubbing his palms together like a Shakespearean moneylender. The Death Eaters holding Ron and Hermione hurried off while Greyback triumphantly took hold of Harry’s hair, holding him up like a hunting trophy. “A flood of galleons is an understatement. Just imagine what the Dark Lord will say when I bring him Harry fucking Potter.” He chortled happily. “You’re probably the one who said the name, eh, kid? You’re stupid. Tragic, but stupid.”

L couldn’t possibly agree more.

The two Death Eaters returned with three more, who held two other prisoners, one wispy girl with white-blond hair and a dark-skinned boy who seemed to have gotten into a brawl about an hour ago. “All set to go, chief!”

“Good going, Snatcher gang! On three, to Malfoy manor! One, two, three!”

The air was kicked out of him as he suddenly fell into a dark, shadowy countryside, somehow retaining its penumbra despite the harsh mid-morning sun shining above their heads. The twisted black gates looked straight out of a horror movie, and the house itself, an exquisite medieval English manor, looked a great study for its architecture, if L had been in the mood. He had been working on that Masters in English Architecture a few years ago and never really got around to completing it.

“Wonderful! We all apparated great! Any splinches?” Greyback called out to his team, all of whom shook their heads, self-satisfied. “I’m so proud of you guys. You’re the best team I’ve ever gotten to work with.” Greyback wiped away an imaginary tear (or did he actually manage to produce one?) as he approached the gate. “Open up! We’ve brought you Harry Potter and his friends!”

L glanced back at Harry, and noticed him deep in conversation with the new arrivals, the dreamy-looking blond girl and her dark-skinned buddy. The detective sighed, the stupid boy better have been working out some sort of a plan.

Light, standing close beside them, had one of Greyback’s more vicious looking minions, a six foot nine monster with a puckered scar running down his throat practically dwarfing the five foot seven Japanese boy, holding tight to his upper arm. The teenager gave L a rueful smile as the werewolf managed to convince the gates to open (L wished it had been some sort of a speaker system instead of a gate with consciousness, he wasn’t comfortable with what that implied about inanimate objects in this world). The gates swung back, and the werewolf gave his minions a wide grin, displaying his filed teeth in all their glory.

“Bring them in, boys! The Malfoys will meet us at the door!”

The dwarf pulled L along, following the werewolf down the winding stone pathway, all the way up to the intimidating black-marble doorway. It swung open when Greyback placed his hairy paw on it (L wondered if the hair was as artificial as the teeth), and revealed a tall, aristocratic white-blond woman in a long, black gown, looking at Greyback down her long nose in disdain. “Why have you come here, Greyback?”

Greyback looked incredulous. “I spent a good five minutes explaining to your gate!”

“Explain again, or leave.”

The werewolf let out a long-suffering sigh. “Alright. I’ve…” He grinned at her, making her recoil. “I’ve brought Harry Potter!” He jerked his chin at one of his minions, who dragged Harry to the front of the pack, forcing him to kneel. “Yeah, he’s a little swollen, but you can clearly see a lightning scar on his forehead.”

The tall woman’s eyes widened. “Blimey! Well, Draco’s in for Christmas holidays, we’ll get it identified by him. _Draco!_ ” She called over her shoulder. “Bring them in, Greyback, and you’ll get a hefty reward for this.”

Greyback sniggered, grabbing Harry by the hair and dragging him inside. The others followed, the dwarfish man having a skip in his step that made him quite inconvenient to be having hanging off the collar of L’s shirt. The inside of the manor was just as grand as the outside, made of marble and stone, with a huge glass chandelier hanging over them, throwing flecks of light everywhere.

Another woman, this one with wild black hair and a face paler than L’s own, widened her expressive black eyes. “What’s this? A whole troupe of them, Cissy?”

“Yes, Bella, apparently Greyback’s brought in Harry Potter.”

“Harry Potter?” Bella shrieked. “Oh, that’s _marvellous!_ Just _fantastic!_ The Dark Lord will be _ecstatic!_ ”

The swollen face of the Boy-Who-Lived turned a deep shade of puce.

The aristocratic woman smiled icily. “Draco will identify him, and then we will call the Dark Lord. _Draco!_ _Where are you?”_

“Coming, mother!” Draco (presumably) called from up the winding stairs to the side of the room. Cissy smiled tightly as Bella dissolved into giggles.

“Oh, the Dark Lord will be so pleased! He’s been waiting for this moment for years!” She giggled, gliding over to Harry Potter and poking him hard on his most painful swelling, cackling as he yelped.

“And what about the others in his party?” She said in her horrible screeching voice, gliding over to the rest of the prisoners. She gave L a distasteful look, passing easily over him and the two newcomers, pausing at Hermione. “Wait, this is the mudblood scum! The Grander girl!”

“Granger, you mean? Potter’s friend?” Cissy drifted over, curious, peering at the girl’s frightened face.

“Yes, yes! I recognise her from the Daily Prophet!”

Hermione shuddered as Bella giggled at her. “She’s just as…disgusting as I expected.” She hissed, turning to Ron and sniffing him strangely. “And a Weasley. I can smell them from miles away, stinking of Blood Traitor trash.”

Cissy, meanwhile, was surveying the rest of the party, skipping over L and the two others and stopping in front of Light, who was trying his hardest to look inconspicuous.

L turned to watch the woman as she studied Light’s face, her finger tapping on her bottom lip. The detective crossed his fingers, praying to all the Gods for her to not recognise him, to just leave him alone, _why_ didn’t he cast a Stinging hex on him the minute the Snatchers arrived?

Slowly, as he had expected, the blond woman’s mouth fell open.

“Light Yagami?”

Light flinched, paling. “S-Sorry?”

“You’re…you’re Light Yagami! _Bella!_ ” She yelled, snapping the black woman out of her manic euphoria. “Bella, lock Misa in her room! Greyback, did you bring their possessions with you?”

Bella’s huge eyes widened impossibly in her thin face. “Oh my Lord!” She cackled with laughter. “Oh, my Lord, can things get any better? Dobby! Lock the idiot girl in her room!”

Harry let out a squeak when Dobby popped in front of Bella and bowed deeply. “Yes, mistress!” He looked to the side, met Harry’s eyes and goggled. Harry shook his head frantically, and Dobby simply disappeared with another pop.

Greyback puffed out his chest. “Yes, we very much did bring their things, Mrs. Malfoy!”

Cissy snapped her fingers. “Check the boy’s belongings for a slim black notebook. Now, if you will! I’ll double your reward if you find it!”

Light turned white as a ghost. Imperceptibly, he met L’s eyes. This was not going well. They would not find the notebook, what would they do with Light if they didn’t find it? L had to think of a distraction. Come on, _think!_

“While Greyback checks their things, I want the rest of you to secure the prisoners in the basement…wait, what is that?”

Greyback was holding a long silver sword, its pommel encrusted with rubies and ancient runes.

Bella shrieked. “It can’t be! It can’t be! How did you get it?” She rounded up on Light, who tried his hardest to stand up straight as he was faced with the manic woman. “How did you get it? It is in my vault! The vault is secure, I made sure of it!”

Light made a jerky movement away from her, but the massive man holding him tightened his grip. “We...we just found it.”

 _“Liar!”_ She screamed. “We cannot call the Dark Lord, not until we get an explanation for this! He’ll have our heads!”

Greyback retreated from the pile of their things. “There is no notebook here.”

Cissy turned pink. “Where is the notebook, Light Yagami?”

The boy bit his lip. “I don’t…it was stolen from me.”

“Liar! _Liar, liar, liar!”_ The crazy woman screeched at the ceiling, raising her knotted wand and pointing it straight at Light’s chest. L tried to break away from his dwarfish captor, but the man pulled him down by the collar, knocking him off balance and having him crash to the ground. He noticed Ron in a similar state, but having been punched in the face by his guard.

Cissy noted the anarchy with an arched eyebrow. “Secure the rest of the prisoners in the basement. Leave Light Yagami here, we’ll have to…interrogate him properly.”

“He’s telling the truth!” L let out in a strangled cry. “He’s telling the truth, it was stolen from him!” The captors pulled him along by the collar, so he fought against him, biting and scratching until the dwarf was forced to let go. He rushed at Bella, hoping to at least take down one wizard before they tackled him down. Bella raised her wand and screamed a _Crucio_ at him, but it merely deflected off of him, and he managed to fall on top of her before Greyback grabbed him and threw him on his back on the floor. Another Death Eater came forward and tied his hands behind his back as he shouted at Bella. “He’s telling the truth, damn it! It was stolen by two Slytherins in the middle of the woods!”

Bella let out a haughty laugh. “Idiots and liars. Take them downstairs.”

Ron writhed in his Death Eater’s grasp. “He doesn’t know anything! I know where we got the sword from! Take me instead!”

Bella sneered. “I’ll definitely take you next, you filthy Blood Traitor. You, then the Mudblood Princess, you’re all in line.”

The Death Eaters pulled L up to his feet and dragged him along with the rest of them down the stone steps into a cellar. L looked desperately over his shoulder at Light, who stood there looking so slender and tiny next to his captor, with his hands tied behind his back, wandless, his face forced into an impassive expression when he could just _see_ the fear in his eyes.

L had been trained for situations like this at Whammy’s House. Torture, interrogations, he was prepared for everything, but Light…Light was just a nineteen-year-old boy from a middle class family in Tokyo, he had no reason to ever dream such a scenario would happen to him.

 _Why_ _had_ _he hidden the Death Note?_ Why had he _insisted_ on helping the Order? Why hadn’t he just defected to Voldemort’s side the minute they found out about Misa? Being captured alongside the figurehead of the rebellion, the idiotic Boy-Who-Lived, it made it so much worse for Light. L chewed on his lip as the Death Eaters plopped him to the ground and tied him back to back with Hermione. Ron sat right beside him, and L could see angry tears in his blue eyes.

The Death Eaters surveyed them once before marching up the stairs, eager to witness the action above. The door clanged, leaving them all in pitch darkness.

“We need to get rid of these ropes.” Harry whispered roughly.

The wispy blond girl, whose voice was tinny as a bell’s, replied. “I’m working on it. It’ll be easier with some light, but I can manage.”

L was about to reply when the first of the screams started from upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Why do I love doing this to Light? I'm such a sadist XD)
> 
> Comment away! Reviews make me happy :D


	24. Veneficus

“They wouldn’t dare do this if he had his wand. They wouldn’t _dare_.”

L tightened his jaw, trying to block out everything as he struggled in his bindings. The boy’s screams were just as bad as the first _Crucio_ back in the woods outside Hogwarts, as painful as when the Sword of Gryffindor had touched the Death Note, but they weren’t _stopping_. He had been screaming for the past ten minutes, only breaking to give out a strangled answer to whatever question Bella was throwing at him in her hateful, shrill voice.

And the worst part was, it couldn’t be magic. Light was immune to magic because he had the Death Note scraps taped to his back, so it had to be something physical. Knives, whips, blades, thumbscrews, acid, what could they be doing to him in that medieval castle of a house, where it seemed perfectly natural to have an Iron Maiden swinging open in place of a bedroom closet?

_“It was stolen!”_ The boy screamed, and L squeezed his eyes shut. “I swear it was stolen, why would I have gotten rid of it? It’s _my_ notebook! I would never-I would never-” Light took in a shuddering breath. “Never gotten rid of it, I _swear_.”

“Stolen by whom, eh? Who would steal a notebook? It isn’t even from this _world!_ Nobody knows it’s a weapon but the Death Eaters and you!”

“Slyth…Slytherins…”

_“Stop lying!”_

A long wavering scream, growing higher and higher in pitch. Beside him, Ron bellowed angrily, struggling as hard as L was with the ropes. Luna made an annoyed sound, sawing away at her ropes with what seemed to be a nail file.

“And Gryffindor’s sword? How did you find Gryffindor’s sword?”

_“I don’t know!_ I didn’t find it! The Order, the Order found it!”

Hermione gasped. “What is he saying? He shouldn’t bring up the Order!”

L would have bitten her, if only he could have turned in the ropes.

“The _Order?_ How did the Order get it? When did you meet with the Order? _Answer me!”_

Another scream, shriller and more panicked, cutting itself off with a choked gasp. “They…they didn’t say who they _were!_ They were wearing masks and black robes, they said they wanted to give the sword to the Chosen One and they…they…they knew I was going to look for the Chosen One somehow so they gave me the Sword, I swear I don’t know how they got it, I don’t even know what it’s used for! I’m telling the truth, please, please, stop, please…”

A quieter voice piped up. “Bella, it sounds like the truth. It makes sense. We mustn’t damage him, the Dark Lord wanted to tend to him, remember?”

“One more thing. Why weren’t you affected by the Cruciatus curse? Why aren’t you affected by magic?”

Light let out a quivering retch. “…I don’t know…”

“The _truth!_ ”

_“I don’t know!_ I don’t know, maybe because I’m from another dimension...I don’t know. Please, I really don’t know.”

The witch Cissy heaved a sigh. “Alright. Send this one down and bring another or Bella will end up murdering the wretch. Oh, and bring the goblin too, after she’s done with the next. We need to examine the sword.”

“N-no. They don’t know anything either, don’t…” Light stifled a whimper.

Bella screeched triumphantly. “I’ll be the judge of that. Bring the Mudblood Princess next, I’d like to see just how filthy her blood really is.”

Behind L, Hermione grew very quiet.

“Damn it, Luna, hurry up!” Harry whispered furiously as the white-blond girl worked at the ropes. The cellar door burst open, revealing a sinister rat-like man in old robes, with one hand made of silver and the other brandishing a wand. He waddled over to where Hermione was settled, cutting the ropes attaching her to L and dragging her up by the hair.

“Let go of her, you monster!” Ron shouted beside him.

“You owe me, Pettigrew! You owe me for saving your life!” Harry yelled desperately, but Pettigrew was merciless, pulling the sobbing girl along out the door. He reappeared soon enough with a faintly shivering Light, who was bowing his head so his sweaty auburn fringe obscured his expression. He pushed the boy down like a ragdoll in Hermione’s old place, binding his wrists to L’s.

“You’re despicable, Wormtail!” Harry snarled as the rat-like man disappeared out the door and slammed it shut.

The cellar was silent for a few minutes, and L’s entire attention was trained on Light’s quiet breathing behind him.

Ron gulped. “Light?” He called tentatively.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think they’d take her up there…I’m really sorry.” The boy whispered tonelessly, his voice hoarse. L felt a lump form in his throat, he brushed his fingers over Light’s in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture.

“It’s not _your_ fault they took her there! It’s fucking Pettigrew!” The second stranger, the dark-skinned boy with the buzz-cut exclaimed. Ron agreed vigorously. “Yeah, Light, it isn’t your fault, why would you even think that? Are…are you okay?”

Light swallowed, trying to compose himself. “Yes. I’m fine. I’m fine, don’t worry. Is there…is there a goblin in here?”

Luna piped up in her dreamy voice. “There’s one in the corner. I don’t think anybody noticed him but me.”

The goblin grumbled. “Nobody notices me. I’m pretty okay with it at this point.”

Hermione’s scream resounded from upstairs, startling everyone. Ron and Harry winced.

Light fidgeted in his place, uncomfortable in his bindings. L was struck with a vicious stab of worry. Was he hurt? _How badly did she injure him?_ It was _killing_ him, the need to check on Light, all he wanted to do was comfort the teenager, examine how injured he was, get bloody revenge on the people who dared to lay a finger on him…but he was stuck here in this godforsaken basement! He curled his hands into fists, burning with a sudden wrath, but it all melted away into deep sorrow when he felt Light’s cool fingers brush over his, trying to calm him down.

“Is there anybody else in here?” The brunet asked.

Luna made a vacant, dismissive sound. “No, they’re all upstairs. They wanted to watch the torture.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” There was  a tinge of sarcasm in his mostly remote voice. “Listen, goblin, have they imprisoned you because you acted treasonously?”

_“Treasonously?”_ The goblin scoffed. “I suppose you could say that.”

“Then can we trust you to help us? We can help you escape if you do.”

What was Light planning? L was filled with awe. The boy had created a plan while he was being _tortured_ , and L couldn’t do a damn thing while sitting on his ass in a basement.

“Yeah, sure. I’ve rotted in this cellar for a week now. It’s about time I try to escape.”

“Great.” Light’s tone was flat. “When they come to get you to see the sword, you have to say it’s fake. They don’t want the Dark Lord to see the real sword, I suspect because his mostly Horcrux-degenerated form will react badly to it. If we have to leave it behind, it’s best if they think it’s a fake and let him near it.”

Harry sniffled. “We’re not leaving it behind.”

Light sighed. “If they know it’s real, they’ll lock it away. Please, goblin.”

“Griphook. And yes, I accept your offer if you help me escape. How will you be doing that exactly?”

Light took a deep breath. “I have a portkey in my pocket.”

Everyone in the room took in a sharp breath. Ron gasped. “No way.”

“It leads to a safe place. Shell Cottage.”

 “The one you had flicked from Lupin.” L was suddenly struck with affection for the man. He was so sneaky, so brilliant, it amazed him.

Light let out a hollow laugh, three separate breaths, _ha ha ha._ “Yeah. We need a wand and Hermione, and then we can use the portkey to escape.”

In her corner, Luna crowed triumphantly. “I’m free!”

“Yes, awesome, cut it for the rest of us, then, Luna.” The second stranger said, and Luna sprung to action, cutting everyone’s ropes as fast as she could. The minute she freed L, he leapt up to his feet, grabbing Light in a hug as Luna worked on the brunet’s wrists. “Oh, Light, I’m so glad you’re alright. I can’t tell you…”

Light swayed slightly in his grasp, and he immediately loosened it. “Does it hurt? Raito-kun, what did she do to you?”

“I’m fine, L…” Luna freed his wrists and he brought them forward, massaging the angry red grooves. He nodded his thanks at her. “I’m fine. Here, take this.” The boy reached into his pocket and placed a smooth gold coin in L’s palm. “The portkey. Keep it safe. We’ll need it at a moment’s notice.”

Ron rushed over to Light and looked him over, (presumably accidentally) elbowing L out of the way. “Light, are you alright?” Luna giggled from where she was cutting the bonds of the goblin, Griphook, in the corner.

“I’m okay, Ron, I’m totally okay. We have to-”

Hermione let out an extended scream from upstairs, making Ron shiver with anger. Light turned pale, avoiding eye contact with both L and the redhead. “They’ll come down to take the goblin soon.” He said, his voice raised over Hermione’s shrieks. “We’ll have to be ready with a plan of action.”

L gulped. “They’ll send Pettigrew, I figure. I wonder what happened to Greyback.”

Light waved the thought away. “They paid him and let him leave halfway through my, uh…my interrogation.”

Harry flashed something in his hand, was it a shard of glass? “Harry? What’s that?” Ron asked, frowning. The swollen-faced boy looked up, almost sheepish. “I just…asked Dumbledore’s eye for help.”

“Dumbledore’s eye?” L asked. “Is that a euphemism?”

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s literally Dumbledore’s eye. He appears in this shard of mirror sometimes, I think I’m communicating with his ghost. He’ll send help.”

L was so glad to see scepticism animate Light’s wiped-slate face. “Okay. We need to focus on overpowering Pettigrew, that’s the only way we’ll get a wand.”

The screaming upstairs reached a crescendo, then descended slowly, a cello suite of its own. L suddenly itched for his violin, then slapped himself for comparing the screams that had been Light’s own only minutes before to music. How could he be this selfish? Why did Light’s screaming matter so much more to him than Hermione’s?

Light swallowed. “He’ll come alone, the Snatchers are gone. We’re six people. We can ambush him, make sure he doesn’t hit us with a spell. I…I can take his wand, I’m powerful, but I don’t know that many spells. Ron only taught me the basics.”

Luna chimed in. “That’s okay, because you’re a Veneficus.”

Light blinked at her. “Um. Veneficus? You mean like…Latin? A poisoner?”

“No, no.” The blond girl appeared to be smiling contentedly. “Veneficus is a super-powerful wizard with godlike abilities, like the ability to block spells and bless young children with long lives.”

Light paused. “So they’re good guys, then.”

“Yeah, most definitely. Only the best people are Venefici.”

“Well then, why do they call it Veneficus? I mean, it’s pretty clear in Latin that the guy is a poisoner. It’s not a very worshipful name.”

_(Kind of like Kira,_ L immediately thought. Meant in a worshipful way, but signifying deadly power. This was not good, the wispy girl was putting bad ideas in Light’s head).

Luna’s contented air turned more appreciative in the face of his questions. “Nobody knows how they got the name. I think it’s because they… _you_ …poison our enemies and help us normal wizards out. Venefici are _good people_. They have bright souls.”

_“Luna.”_ Harry interrupted. “We have to focus.”

Light shook his head, bemused. “Right, so. Um. Who’s going to take the wand?”

“You take it, Light.” Ron suggested. “I can prompt you with spells if you need help.”

Luna nodded. “Yes, it’s best if the Veneficus takes charge.”

Bellatrix’s high screeching voice took the place of Hermione’s sobbing screams. “All right, this one’s an idiot. Bring the goblin up and get rid of the Mudblood. I think the Dark Lord might use her as target practice when he comes, put her in the cellar.”

Light waved everyone over on the wall adjacent to the steps leading up to the cellar door. “Out of sight, guys, and be quiet. Wait for my signal.”

Pettigrew tromped down the stairs, his silver hand gleaming in the meagre light as he reached the bottom step. He looked at the ropes lying slack on the ground and his eyes widened.

Light snapped his fingers loudly and clearly and everyone fell as one upon the squat rat-like man. L caught his wand-hand, wrenching his wand from it and pulling himself free. Harry and Ron grabbed his silver hand, which whipped around in a frenzy, trying to catch them by the throats. Quickly, L tossed the stick at Light, who caught it and pointed it straight at the man’s beady eyes. “Petrificus Totalus!”

The silver hand (and the rest of the man’s body) froze in place, with Pettigrew’s black eyes roving from wizard to wizard, wondering how he was going to get out of this mess.

L turned to Light. The short chestnut wand in his hand had already grown silvery patterns at its base where it touched Light’s wrist, as if his power was leaking out of his skin.

Luna was stunned, her wide-set blue eyes boggling. _“Veneficus.”_

The boy tilted his head to the cellar door. “Quiet. We shouldn’t alert them. They could have other guards in the manor.”

“We should be quick. Grab Hermione, use the Portkey. Got it?” L added in his sharp monotone.

Everyone nodded, and, taking a deep breath, Light led the charge upstairs, Ron flanking him as the rest followed.

They emerged into the large light-flecked ballroom where Bella and Cissy awaited Pettigrew. The dark haired witch tapped her shoe against the ground impatiently, her head thrown back facing the ceiling, hands on her hips. “What is taking you so long, Wormta- _Stupefy!_ ” The woman’s eyes grew unhinged as she threw a bright green spell at Light, who raised his chestnut wand and cast a _Petrificus Totalus_ in the same moment. The spells hit in midair, sparking madly, a green flash against white, and L could finally witness the magnitude of Light’s new power. Effortlessly, the white light cut through the green, overwhelming the jet emitting from Bella’s knotted wand until it hit the woman hard in the chest, making her hands buckle to her sides and her wand go flying.

Cissy, remembering that the boy could not be affected by magic, swiftly levitated a nearby blade in the direction of Light’s face. The brunet, to L’s astonishment, sent it spiralling off of its trajectory with a flick of his wand and flicked it again to petrify her.

“What the bleeding fuck?” A voice came from upstairs. Draco, was it? A white-blond boy about Light’s age came running down the stairs, his slim wand in an offensive stance. “Expelliarm-” was as far as he got before he tumbled down the stairway, stiff as a board.

“Is that done, then?” Light asked smugly. “Is that the extent of your defences, Bella?” He sauntered over to the black-haired witch and put his foot on her chest, turning her so she fell onto her back. Her feral black eyes swivelled around indignantly.

Meanwhile, the others went over to Hermione, who had been strapped to what looked like a torture chair, straps at her ankles, wrists and neck and a strange spiky implement L couldn’t recognise going over her heart. The detective glanced at the triumphant Light, and noticed that his shirt had been shredded in the same place and, to his horror, was speckled in blood. He racked his brain for any information on devices that looked like this, but came up with nothing.

As the boys (and caught-in-a-dream Luna) freed Hermione from her chair, L turned all of his attention to Light, who was crowing his victory. “You didn’t get to summon your Dark Lord, did you? Hmm? You didn’t get to present your prisoners and get your reward, and now they’re _escaping_. How does that make you feel? What will your Dark Lord say when he learns that you not only lost Light Yagami, but also Harry Potter? _What will he do to you?”_

Unexpectedly, tears began dripping down from Bella’s eyes, drawing tracks along her cheeks as they fell. Her eyes roved over Light’s face, wildly angry.

The brunet’s eyes sharpened. “Let’s try an experiment, why don’t we? Let’s see what happens when we combine a Petrificus Totalus with a _Crucio!”_

 The woman’s eyes bulged as a red beam pulsed out of the chestnut wand, hitting her square in the chest. Her face was immobile, but her eyes communicated the extent of the cruel suffering she was going through, bulging and squeezing shut and bulging out again.

“Crucio! Crucio! _Crucio!”_

Ron sped over to the teenager, whose face was glowing with bloodlust as hot tears streamed down Bella’s cheeks. “Light! Stop, you’ll kill her!” He grabbed Light’s shoulder and tried to spin him around, but Light jerked out of his hold, eyes gleaming, his wand viciously close to Bella’s dainty nose.

_“Crucio!”_

The woman’s eyes blanked. She stared motionless into nothing, her wide dark eyes unfocussed and still.

Light dropped the chestnut wand, silver markings fading, and stepped smartly away from her body. L was suddenly there, wrapping his arm around the boy’s shoulders, bleating _Raito-kun, Raito-kun, Raito-kun_ , but Light didn’t respond as he bent down to pick the wand up again.

“Accio wands.” He murmured under his breath, and the wands of all the prisoners came speeding from the cabinet in which they had been locked, breaking a hole in it as they did. Light caught them smoothly, shoving them in L’s hands, picking out his own ivory wand delicately between his forefinger and thumb. Gripping the white wand seemed to give him comfort, and the wand itself turned silver more easily than the chestnut one. He swished it in the air and suddenly, Gryffindor’s sword came speeding towards him. He caught it by the ruby-encrusted pommel, giving Harry a cursory look.

“See? We’re not leaving it behind.”

Harry had gone pale, as had most of the party apart from Luna. Luna was red-cheeked and looked happier than ever. “Veneficus, he poisoned the enemy!” She whispered excitedly.

Another swish, and his backpack flew over, along with Hermione’s pink handbag. This, too, he shoved into L’s hands, slinging his pack over his shoulder.

“Anything else?”

L arranged all the things in his hands and reached into his pocket to pull out the portkey.

_“Raito?”_

A door banged open, and a loud screech was heard down the corridor. _“Raito?”_

“Misa.” Light whispered, turning towards the cry and switching easily to Japanese, his heart pounding. _“Koko ni, Misa! Isoge!”_ He whipped around, making to run towards her. L grabbed the back of his shirt, dropping some of the wands. Ron muttered a curse, helping him gather them up. “Light, we have to go! As you said, there could be other guards here we don’t know about!”

The blond girl appeared out the corner, looking frantic and dishevelled, her hands cut and bleeding. She was in her trademark gothic clothing, her hair in bunches, but her face was white and her brown eyes huge. She set eyes on Light and let out a shriek of joy. _“Raito! Raito, anata wa koko ni iru!_ ”

“Yes, I’m here. I’m here, we’ve got to get out of here. Come with us, bring Rem.” Light grabbed her in a hug, enveloping her waifish body, and kissing her on the cheek. “Come now.”

_“Remu wa watashi ni shitagau!_ She will follow me, let’s go!” Misa cried, hanging off of Light’s neck. The boy let out the soft, fake laugh that L had hoped never to hear again, and manoeuvred himself towards the group holding the portkey.

“Touch the portkey, Misa.”

The girl reached out and grabbed the golden coin, her tiny hand pressed right over L’s. Light placed his hand over hers and gave her a positively adoring smile.

“ _Portus_.” He said, tapping the coagulation of hands with his silver wand, and then there was a sharp pull in the base of L’s stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a mammoth chapter (and a LOT of fun writing :D) I didn't have the heart to cut it anywhere and make two, the action is quite constant throughout. The next chapter is chiller, everyone needs a little recovery period, huh? (No worries, the drama doesn't reduce XD)
> 
> Give me some comments! Tell me where you think the plot is going and if you have any feedback for me! Love hearing from you :)


	25. Furnunculus

Hermione Granger had met a lot of infuriating people in her life.

There were so many of them that at one point, in Sixth Year, she had even made a list. For a long time, she had thought it would only be the truly evil people who would stay at the top: Voldemort, Bellatrix (rest in peace…or actually, don’t), etc. She had never at any point thought that an idiotic blond model would be slowly clawing her way up the list, passing the cruellest Death Eaters with the sole virtue of being the most annoying little brat Hermione had ever laid eyes on.

Dean had said it well, she was like a combination of Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and the worst, dottiest parts of Luna Lovegood (at least it wasn’t only Hermione’s nerves that the blond idiot was climbing on. The tension in the house was real).

It was bad enough that Hermione was still suffering from the torture. Her chest ached, her breath was short, she couldn’t run or jump too quickly. That torture device, she had seen it in the Restricted section of the Hogwarts library once. They had called it the Ripper, known for slowly tearing towards the victim’s heart and cauterising the wound to prevent blood loss. It was all science, pure muggle science, created during the witch-burning period in England when it was risky to perform any kind of magic at all and perfected later on. The Malfoys had been a prominent family at the time, it wasn’t surprising they had one of these stored in their manor. It was too bad she wasn’t good enough at medicinal science to know its exact mechanism. They had probably decided to use it after trying and failing with the Cruciatus curse on Light.

She was impressed with Light, to think that he had managed to lie while under its influence when all she had managed to do was keep her mouth shut. The pain was so great that her mind had fogged up completely. She couldn’t have thought an original thought if her life had depended on it (which, in a way, it had). When they had rescued her from the machine, all she had wanted to do was retch in a corner and cry, forget revenge.

One good thing about the whole fiasco (and there weren’t many) was that she had started to bond with the infamous wielder of the Death Note. She hadn’t thought she would like Light Yagami, he was a prick in many ways, but he was smart, brave and was working on being a good person. Hermione could respect that.

His girlfriend, on the other hand…

“ _Raitooooooooo!”_

There she was again, followed by the inexplicable white monster Light called a Shinigami. Hermione, by his description, equated it to a dementor with the ability to think and speak like a regular creature.

Light was pissed off with the monster, and rightly so. Apparently, it (or one of its kind, she wasn’t sure because Light was always slipping into angry Japanese when he brought it up) had brought them to this dimension from the one they lived in and was refusing to take them back because it had signed a pact with Lord Voldemort.

So Voldemort, apart from being a world class git and murderer, was also an expert in Shinigami diplomacy. Who knew? Hermione figured if any wizard would go to the extent of making pacts with creepy white monsters, it would be the Dark Lord himself.

“Raitoooooo! Where are you?” The blond idiot called, posing with her exaggerated pout and both hands cupped around her mouth to form a loudspeaker, as if she needed one. “Raito, stop hiding! The game isn’t fun anymore!”

Hermione chuckled as she tore one of the newspapers in her lap into small pieces.

It was an Order-issued newspaper. The Order used them to relay important information to Bill and Fleur through the pictures on the third and fifth pages. This week’s information was that the Death Eaters were going to move the things in Bellatrix’s vault in a week due to her death. Since Harry swore that Bellatrix’s vault was where the next Horcrux was, they had made plans to infiltrate Gringott’s tomorrow (sooner the better, right?).

All they had to do was disguise themselves to be Death Eaters as they had in the Ministry, using the Polyjuice potion the Order had smuggled for them from unknown sources, and pretend to be sent to examine the contents of the vault before it is moved, to make sure nothing is misplaced...an excuse to break in, with Griphook’s reluctantly offered help. The goblin had come from Gringott’s, after all, and so knew its defences. In return they offered him the Sword of Gryffindor when they were done with it.

Hermione was prepared for this, Polyjuice potion was her thing after all. Back in Sixth Year, when Draco had been acting funny, she had managed to secure one of his hairs and pop it into her bottomless handbag. Several years ago, she had done the same for Snape. She just hoped the age of the hair didn’t particularly matter. None of her books mentioned anything about it.

But that mission was planned for tomorrow. Today (and most of yesterday), they gathered their strength in Bill and Fleur’s home. She knew Light, for one, was not strong enough for the mission yet (not that he’d admit it). After all, he had been in the machine a lot longer than Hermione. The break was doing everyone good, being at Shell Cottage kind of felt like a vacation from the war.

_“Raitooooooo!”_ Misa called out, starting to sound annoyed. Hermione groaned, catching the blond idiot’s attention. “ _You!_ Where is Raito? Is he avoiding me?”

Hermione sighed, ripping the paper in her lap further. “I don’t know where he is.”

“He can’t do this! First, he leaves to go to another world without me, then he hides from me when I finally find him! He can’t act like this! It’s been ages since we went on a date! I want to go on a _date_ with him!”

_Merlin’s beard, no shit he’s hiding_. “I don’t know where he is, I can’t help you. He’s not here, that’s for sure.”

Misa pouted at her, reminding Hermione distinctly of Lavender Brown in Fifth Year. The brunette breathed a sigh of relief as the blond girl finally, _finally_ flounced away. She got up, dusted off the powder-blue skirt she had borrowed from Fleur and decided to take a walk. Misa’s grating voice was making the atmosphere unpleasant, despite the greenery, the roaring of the sea below the cliffs and the smell of salt that made her think of summer holidays on the beach.

She supposed she might as well go find Light. She could give him a heads up about Misa, and maybe ask him about the finer details of the Shinigami. They were an interesting species, and the existence of a King meant that they may be an intelligent civilisation in their own dimension.

She headed off towards the cottage, taking a slight detour towards some heavy bushes that led to Bill’s personal shed/cabin. Apparently, Bill had initially proposed to Fleur in that very cabin (Hermione called bullshit on that one, they hadn’t picked out Shell cottage until after their marriage).

Anyway, it was the place Light was hiding in to get away from his nagging girlfriend, seeing as she didn’t know it existed and wasn’t bright enough to find it behind the shrubbery. Hermione walked down the dirt path, shoving away stray branches until she came upon the entrance to the cabin.

She did a double-take as she neared the door. There was a strange white shape kneeling beside it, mostly hidden by the greenery, his ear pressed against the surface of the door, which was ever so slightly ajar.

“L?” Hermione whispered, and the weird man whipped his shaggy black head up, a slender forefinger to his pale lips.

“Silent.” The man said, turning back to his initial position.

“What on earth are you doing?” Hermione asked, a grin appearing on her face. She really liked L, he was possibly the most adorable person she had ever met.

He gave her an impatient glance with those large black eyes. “Quiet, please.”

“Are you eavesdropping?” She tiptoed over to his place and knelt beside him, getting the edge of her skirt muddy. He pursed his lips.

“Yes.”

She stifled a snicker. “Why?”

The detective licked his lips, as if wondering if he should dignify that with an answer. “They’re talking about me.” He stated matter-of-factly. “Your boyfriend does not like me very much, though I suppose that cannot be helped. He is quite stupid.”

“Ron’s not _stupid_. He just…doesn’t try hard enough.”

L hooded his eyes at her, as if she was being stupid herself. “I suppose you’ll say it is a matter of perspective next. I don’t see why Raito-kun is letting this conversation go on this long, he doesn’t usually have the patience for people like him.”

Curious despite herself, Hermione leaned in, pressing her ear right above where L was crouched and peeking through the gap.

Ron was sitting on one of Bill’s comfy chairs, his posture stiff. He was gesturing emphatically with his hands as he spoke (which, according to Hermione’s seven years of experience, meant he was extremely worked up). “I’m just saying, you could do a lot better than _him!”_

L huffed, disgruntled.

Light bit into the apple he had previously been throwing casually in the air. He was leaning back in his chair with his legs propped up on the table, the very picture of smug contentment. “Yeah, of course I could do better than him. I mean, _look_ at him. Jeez. Apple?” He picked up another shiny fruit from the table, offering it to Ron. The redhead took it but held it nervously, turning it round and round in his hands.

L had grown tense beneath Hermione, so the witch put her hand on his back, stroking his sweatshirt soothingly. Why was Ron being such an asshole? And why was Light responding in kind?

“Well, if you know you can do better…?” Ron ventured, the fruit gripped tightly over white knuckles.

Light threw his apple in the air. “I told you, we’re not dating. Why does it matter so much to you, anyway? Is it the fucking kiss? Because I told you that didn’t bother me, alright?”

“N-no, it’s not the kiss. I just…your girlfriend, Misa. She’s…well. You don’t like her either. You only seem to have these things with people you don’t like. And worse, _weirdoes_ you don’t like.”

“Why does it _matter_ to you, Ron?”

The redhead sucked his lips in. “Well…because you’re my friend, alright? I care about you.”

“That’s sweet, Ron. But really, it’s none of your business.”

The redhead blinked, his apple getting nicked by his fingernails. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, Light. It’s just…”

Light shook his head. “Whatever. Maybe friends really are like this, I haven’t really had many.”

Ron smiled softly. “Me neither.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. The detective gave her a rueful smile, patting her arm.

“I’ve only ever had Harry and Hermione, and they’ve always liked each other more. I guess it’s stupid, but you’re the only friend I have who…who ever considered me worth it. Teaching you for all those weeks, I felt…happier. Happier than I’ve been in a long time. So I care about you, alright? And I don’t want you getting hurt. Back in Malfoy manor…” He stopped himself when faced with the fiercest warning look Hermione had ever seen on a human being who wasn’t Professor McGonagall.

The redhead sighed and tightened his grip on the poor apple. “Right. Sorry. I guess I just don’t want you getting hurt by that…that git. That freaky git. He gives me the jitters, he’s like a spider or something. Like a spider transfigured into a human. He wants to hurt you, I know it. He’s blackmailing you into staying with him, holding your past crimes over your head.”

L gritted his teeth. Hermione’s face was flushed with equal parts embarrassment and confusion. _What was wrong with Ron? Why was he acting like this?_

Light swung his legs off of the table, his face set serious. Slowly, he took another bite of his shiny red apple and put it down on the desk, taking his time to chew and swallow. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

“Ron.”

The redhead looked up at him, slowly growing daunted when faced with Light’s cool expression. “What?”

“Since you insist on talking about this, we will. And you will not bring it up again. Is that understood?”

Weasley nodded doubtfully. “Sure…”

Light took a deep breath. “You think I can do better than Ryuuzaki? The greatest detective, no wait, three greatest detectives in my world, and probably this one too?”

Ron spluttered. “That’s not what’s important!”

“Yeah, you’re right. What’s important is his actual personality. He’s socially awkward, weird, doesn’t give a single shit about people or feelings or anything normal. He spends all of his time reading or alone. He’s selfish and insensitive and self-absorbed. And he’s also completely, totally himself. He’s intelligent, creative and absolutely brilliant. He’s generous enough to save me from the hangman’s noose and...and he cares about me enough to actually give a shit about me after that. He’s selfless enough to give up his principles to save my life.”

Ron frowned. “See? There it is again! He saved your life, sure, and you should feel grateful for that, but-”

Light closed his eyes, gripping his temple. “What exactly do you want, Weasley? You don’t understand why I’m attracted to him? Well, fine, you don’t consider him hot, alright? And that makes sense, because you’re straight. But I do. He’s interesting to look at, and there’s that spark in his eyes I don’t see in anybody else’s. I like his face, I like his hair and his weird-ass body, and I think he’s fucking attractive, alright? I’m not being blackmailed into being with him. I want to be with him by choice. If I didn’t, I’m pretty sure he would leave me be.”

Hermione’s gaze was fixed on L’s smile, which had grown wider and wider with every word Light said. It was the happiest thing she had ever seen. It made her feel warmer inside, like someone had wrapped a cosy blanket around her heart.

Well, Ron’s next words ripped the blanket right out and dumped a pail of cold water over it for good measure.

The redhead fidgeted with his apple. “Uh, Light? Actually…I don’t think I’m completely straight.”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open. L’s hand was tight around her upper arm, urging her not to dive in through the door with her wand held at ready, trembling in righteous indignation. Light’s eyes were wider than she had ever seen them.

“What makes you say that?” Light asked cautiously, trying to force his face impassive.

“Well…” Ron ducked his head, his face as red as his hair. “I think I’m attracted to you.”

_“Ronald Bilius Weasley!”_ Hermione bellowed as she blasted through the doors, her wand held straight in her hands, humiliated tears stinging her eyes.

Ron jumped up, dropping the abused apple, putting his palms in the air. “Hermione! I didn’t know you were there!”

Hermione shook with fury. “No shit you didn’t know I was there, you absolute fucking piece of shit! You _git!_ _Furnunculus!_ ”

Ron yelped and pawed at his face, which had erupted huge, weeping boils all over it. “Hermione! Bloody hell! My face!”

_“Oppugno!”_ She shouted, and all the apples Light had collected on his table flew towards Ron, hitting him repeatedly on the newly formed boils. He howled in pain and fled the cabin, the apples following him close behind.

“My apples…” Light said forlornly. Hermione gave him a fierce look and collapsed on the floor of the cabin, dissolving into heartbroken sobs. _The wanker! He had left her for a month without a word, they could have been dead for all he cared, and now he was in love with someone else? What a bloody asshole! He made her sick!_

“Um…Hermione? I’m really sorry…” Light trotted over and squatted down beside her. “I’m sure it’s a mistake…he’s just very insecure…”

“I don’t fucking care! He’s bloody sickening!”

Light hesitantly patted her shoulder. “Hey, um. You’re right, he’s a…git. I swear I had no idea he would say that.” The boy blinked, peering at the door Hermione had swung open. “Wait a second. Is that L?”

The detective, discovered, sheepishly got to his feet, hunching as he came in through the door. “Hello, Raito-kun.”

Light narrowed his eyes. “So you planned this, then? What, were you proving to her that her boyfriend is an asshole?”

“Actually, no, that was a surprise. Though not completely unexpected. I do like your methods of retribution, Miss Granger.”

Through her tears, Hermione found a shaky laugh bubbling. “Thanks.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, Miss Granger, I will borrow my boyfriend for a quick snog.”

Light blinked at L. “You have a boyfriend?”

L rolled his eyes expressively. “Raito-kun, I would have been glad to leave things nameless as they have been for quite a while now, but then the Ronald Weasleys of the world will approach you and you will encourage them by telling them that you are very much single. We can’t have that.”

“L. You’re being wildly inappropriate.” Light looked worriedly at Hermione, who swiped furiously at her tears.

“No, no, it’s fine. I don’t fucking care what that prat does. You guys go ahead, do your thing, don’t worry about me.”

L held his hand out to Light. “Well? Do you accept my offer?”

“What, to have you call me your boyfriend? I don’t particularly care, though you shouldn’t call me anything in front of Misa. She might get Rem to kill me.”

“ _No_ , Raito-kun.” L looked impatient. “I meant my offer to snog.”

Light glanced from L to Hermione and back, then reluctantly took L’s hand. “Do you mind not calling it that? It’s not a very pleasant word.”

“Alright. Would you prefer _kisushite?”_

Light cringed. “Ugh. Don’t.”

“Then it seems there’s no way to make you happy.” L grinned, putting his arms around Light’s neck, making the teenager frown.

“Why are you smiling so much? Wait, how much did you hear?”

“Enough.” L said complacently, drawing close and brushing Light’s lips with his. Light pulled away, casting a worried look at Hermione.

“L, this isn’t the right place.”

Hermione sighed. “It’s fine, I’ll leave.”

“No, you don’t have to…” Light tried to put some distance between himself and L, but the detective clung obstinately to the boy’s shirt.

“I’d hate to interfere with his enthusiasm.” Hermione laughed softly. “He’s been itching for this ever since you called him attractive.” She got up and left the cabin before they could make her any more jealous.

Ron Weasley would pay for this, she would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Affectionate!L is such a pleasure to write, I cannot tell you :D (as is Flustered!Ron XD) 
> 
> Review and comment! Those things keep me going! :)


	26. Polyjuice Potion

Light returned to the cottage on the morning of their mission after twenty-four straight hours in that mouldy cabin.

He couldn’t say it had been an unpleasant twenty-four hours. L had been in an amazing mood, and things had proceeded just a little further than ‘snogging’ last night. Light wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He knew he was attracted to Ryuuzaki, and considered him the closest thing to a lover he was capable of having.

He was pretty sure he was in love with the guy. The symptoms were there: he would smile when he thought about him, be unable to look away if he caught a glimpse of the detective before he noticed him; he was hopelessly aroused and he constantly wondered what they would be to each other when they returned home.

There was a warmth in him when he thought about L, a warmth and a chilly iciness, because he knew the detective was incapable of feeling the same way towards him, towards Kira, the greatest mass murderer in the world. Not that that mattered, of course. Not that any of this mattered, they had a mission to go on. Why was he thinking about this?

He woke up that morning to the sound of Hermione’s otter patronus bleeping at him, telling him that their mission was in three hours. He rolled out of L’s loose grip around his waist, taking a (totally not indulgent) glance at the detective’s naked torso and sighing, pulling on the pair of Bill’s pants and a loose brown shirt that he had grabbed from the cottage when making his getaway from Misa on the first day.

He had just been _scourgifying_ himself (what a convenient spell! It was like a bath without any actual bathing) and his clothes when he noticed L’s steady gaze fixed on him, a wistful smile on his sharp-featured face.

“Good morning, Raito-kun.” He said, his smile growing into a playful grin. Light acknowledged it with a nod, turning around to button up his shirt.

“Raito-kun is silent today. Perhaps he is regretting what happened last night.”

And there he was again, saying it like it didn’t matter to him in the slightest. Light felt his face heat up as he grabbed his watch from the table and fastened it on, running a hand through his hair. Suddenly, L was at his shoulder, his breath hot on his collarbone. “Does he regret it, then? If he does, it would be better to inform me.”

Light shrugged him off, giving him a sharp look. L frowned, cocking his head, and Light could suddenly see worry in those glass-orb eyes. “Are you alright, Raito-kun? Did I hurt you? Was it too soon after…?”

Light looked away, embarrassed. His chest did hurt him, and he did feel uncharacteristically weak, but it wasn’t too bad. “No, L, I’m fine.”

“Then what happened? Why do you look so sad?”

 _Sad?_ Light raised his eyebrows. “What are you on about? You’re being ridiculous. I’m not sad.” He rolled his eyes. “We need to go. Hermione sent her patronus-”

“First tell me why you look like that.”

“Like _what_ , L?”

The detective spun Light around, taking his face in his hands. _“Light.”_

_“What?”_

“We need to talk about what happened in the manor. Your…your chest, it looked like it had been cut open before they healed it. It was lucky we had stuck your Death Note piece on your back, else it would have been shredded. I need to know what happened to you so that I can help you.”

Light looked at his watch impatiently. _Nine-thirty_. “Really, L? Now? We have a mission-”

“Screw the mission, Light! You are more important than the mission. Tell me.”

Light smirked. “That’s very flattering, L, but-”

“I got a vague description from Hermione, it appears that the machine is called a Ripper, a medieval artefact, and it does not employ magic. She doesn’t know very much about it, and she was reluctant to elaborate, anyway.”

Light swallowed. “Yeah. It’s not like I can give you any more information either. They strapped it on my chest, it hurt like a bitch, but I’ve gotten my closure. They paid for torturing the God of the New World.” He grinned, and L looked relieved.

“There it is.” He smiled, giving Light a brief peck on the lips. “I enjoy seeing you smile, Raito-kun, though it appears you do so most often when talking about your murderous tendencies.”

“Well, you can’t say she didn’t deserve it.”

L shook his head. “No, I can’t. Are you sure there isn’t anything that’s bothering you?”

Light gave him a weird look. “Nothing’s bothering me. Why do you care so much?”

L smiled. He drew in close, his midnight eyes sparkling, and gently bit Light’s bottom lip. His slender pianist’s fingers brushed the boy’s cheekbone, sliding down his face and burying in Light’s silky auburn hair. “Well, Raito, perhaps it is because I am truly and completely in love with you.”

Light pulled away, chuckling. “Okay, that’s enough of that. You sound like they put weed in your brownies. Now if you don’t mind, I’d rather get something to eat before we go to Gringott’s.”

L looked insulted, pouting. “For your information, Light, I have never tasted marijuana. I don’t know where you get these ideas.”

“Well, drugs would explain how clumsy you are in bed.” Light smiled wryly, sauntering out of the cabin. He heard L’s pattering footsteps as the detective hurried to join him. “I am most definitely not clumsy!” The detective exclaimed indignantly. Light couldn’t help it, he laughed and leaned over, planting a kiss on the tip of L’s nose. The detective smiled widely, his teeth gleaming white in the morning sunlight as they walked through the shrubbery in a companionable silence. Light was glad, maybe they could never be actual lovers but they could certainly be friends. That was all Light wanted, really. He just wanted L in his life.

 _“Raito!”_ He heard a screech in the distance, then a frantic slapping on the ground as a blond bullet slammed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. His chest gave a painful twinge, he winced and tried to pull away, but Misa was too strong.

L grabbed her by the upper arm and shoved her aside. “Amane Misa, he is injured. Watch yourself.” He wrapped his arm around Light and placed a steadying hand a few centimetres away from where the bandage was. “Okay, Raito-kun?”

“Yeah, L. Thanks.” He shook L off and gave the stricken Misa a shaky smile. “Hey, Misa.”

“Raito, Misa didn’t know you were hurt! Misa-Misa is sorry!” She said in her most distressed voice.

“They healed him right in front of you.” L muttered, but was tragically ignored. Light gave her a generous smile. “It’s alright, Misa. Have you talked to Rem?”

“Yes! But she refuses to understand! She is refusing to break our pact, so she cannot help us!”

Light’s mouth turned into a straight line. He gave her a cool, disapproving look, which prompted her heart to immediately break. “Raito, please don’t be angry with Misa! Misa is sorry she cannot convince Rem…”

Light’s look turned more into a glare. “ _You_ made the pact, didn’t you, Misa?”

The blond girl clasped her hands in front of her, her eyes wide in horror. “Misa was only trying to find her Raito! He left without telling her, Misa had to ask Raito’s parents, and they told her he had gone abroad with…with this pervert!” Her wrath suddenly flared as she turned to L. “And then she asked Rem to help her, and Rem told her that you were in another dimension with that pervert, and Misa thought you ran away with him…” Misa began to blubber, her eyes filling with tears.

Light let out a long-suffering sigh. If only he could break up with her...but he didn’t want her asking Rem to write his name in the notebook. He would have to find a way, perhaps he could make a pact with the Shinigami as well.

“It’s okay, Misa.” He put a reluctant hand on her waist, and the girl immediately brightened, jumping up onto him in glee. His chest stung angrily now, flaring up, making him catch his breath. L growled, flipping into a Capoeira stance and kicking her aside. _“Amane Misa!”_

She landed on her rump with a huff, looking up at the two men, stunned. “O-oh, sorry! Sorry, Raito, I forgot!” She rubbed her belly, where L had booted her. “Ouch.”

Light steadied his breath, and swallowed to compose himself. “Misa. Listen, you’ll have to stay here for a bit. L and I have urgent business in the town with some of the others in the cottage. You’ll have Bill and Fleur, and probably Dean and Luna for company. You can spend that time convincing Rem to take us home, alright?”

Misa nodded hurriedly, getting to her feet and dusting off her short black skirt. “Y-yes. And if she succeeds at convincing Rem, will Raito forgive her?”

Light gave her a soft half-smile. “Yes, Misa. I will forgive you if you get us home.”

“Yay!” Misa did a little dance. “Hey, Raito, when we get home, will you move in with me? I bought a new apartment, it is a luxury one with sparkly floors and a huge bed!” She gave him a suggestive smile, nudging him with her hip.

Light ducked his head, glancing over at L’s sour expression and stifling a laugh. “We’ll see, Misa.”

 _“We’ll see?_ We’ve been dating for soooo long, Raito, it’s about time we move in together! How long will you stay with Ryuuzaki-the-Pervert? He doesn’t have any reason to keep you under surveillance anymore!”

“Amane Misa, I think that is for me to decide.” L said austerely.

Misa gave him a sceptical look. “But you have already convicted Higuchi as Kira. Why do you need to observe my Raito?” Her eyes flashed with rage. “You want to fantasise about him, don’t you? You want to do your dirty perverted acts on my Raito!”

Light was so glad they had reached the cottage. L looked angry enough to spit.

“I am not a pervert.” L said, his voice high-and-mighty.

“You _are!_ You’re a horrible pervert _stalker_ with designs on my Raito!” Misa screeched, her hands in fists by her side as she leaned in to yell in L’s face. “You leave my Raito alone or I will...”

Light looked around, noticing that everyone was staring at them. Hermione’s face was in the window, giggling next to Harry. The Boy-Who-Lived himself looked vaguely disinterested. Luna was staring at them from the yard, fascinated, and close beside her was the newly-healed Ron with an inscrutable expression.

 _Oh, shit, Ron. He might even agree with her._ Light had to put a stop to this.

“What will you do, Amane-san?” L sneered. Misa turned a shade of boiling scarlet.

“I will…I will get Rem to write your name!”

 _“Misa!”_ Light yelled, his self-control finally snapping. “That isn’t a joke! You will not ever ask Rem to write Ryuuzaki’s name, do you understand? _Never.”_

“B-but Raito…” Her eyes filled with tears. Light was unmoved.

“If you kill L, Misa, I will never love you. I will never come close to loving you. I will hate you for the rest of my life.”

Misa started to sob. “B-but he is a pervert! He’s…”

Light let out an angry sigh, and his chest tightened painfully.

“It doesn’t matter what he is, Misa. You are not to kill him, is that clear?”

Misa wept. “Okay, Raito, I won’t let Rem kill him. Don’t be angry with Misa!”

Light’s head began to pound. Maybe he shouldn’t have strained himself so much, he was injured after all. With a frustrated groan, he left Misa and L standing out in the porch and swung the door open as he entered the cottage, grabbing the empty kitchen seat beside Hermione and putting his head down on the table.

He could hear Misa’s infuriated cry, and a vicious slap rang out. Presently, L entered the kitchen with a reddened cheek and sour expression.

Hermione began to giggle. “Why do you keep her around, Light? Ego-booster?”

From his position, Light’s grumbling was muffled. “Her Shinigami will kill me if I break up with her.”

“Wow. That’s harsh. Hasn’t anyone told her about the many fish in the sea?” Bill sauntered over, bringing the sweet scent of walnut pie with him. Everyone squealed in delight, including the recently-arrived Ron and Luna, though Ron did seem more subdued than usual.

“Well, he brought it on himself.” L murmured resentfully as he took a seat right beside the pie, grabbing the knife from perpetually gloved Bill to cut himself the biggest slice. Light lifted his head and gave him a dirty look.

“Led her on, did you?” Dean snarked, grabbing one of the smaller pieces and chewing blissfully. “You never tease these girls, they make you pay for it. Trust me, I know. _Pansy Parkinson.”_

“You never dated Pansy Parkinson.” Hermione dismissed. “You’re a mudblood.”

“Hermione!” Bill exclaimed, shocked. Hermione shrugged and took her slice on her paper plate.

“I’m a mudblood, I’m allowed to call other mudbloods mudbloods.”

L sniggered as he stuffed his face. “What a juvenile insult.”

“Shut up, mudblood. You’re a mudblood too.”

The table rang with laughter, Light included, and Ron finally cracked a smile. Light noticed that the redhead had spent a disproportionate amount of time staring at him even now. Light did not want to piss Hermione off (especially after he had seen what she was capable of) so he refrained from making eye contact with the young Weasley. It was too bad, Light really did like him.

“So, guys, guys.” Bill called once the laughing died down. “What’s your game plan for the Horcrux retrieval?”

From the corner of his eye, Light noticed that Harry looked pissed off. He hadn’t wanted everyone to know about their mission, but it had been necessary if they wanted to do it right. The table sobered up as everyone finished off their walnut pie and sat up straight.

Hermione cleared her throat. “I’ve readied the Polyjuice potion this morning. One of us should go as Snape, and the other should be Draco. Since we don’t have their wands as identification, we need someone to cast an Imperius curse on the whole lot of people, and that someone is obviously Light the Great and Powerful here. So, we need volunteers on who will be Snape and Draco, and who will hide under the invisibility cloak with Light.”

Harry perked up. “Ron does a great Snape impression!”

Hermione’s face lost all cheer as she glared, narrow-eyed, at the freckled wizard, who bashfully scratched his head. “Well, it’s not that great…”

Light felt a twinge of sympathy for his friend. “I’m sure it’s amazing and you just don’t want to admit it.”

Ron looked up, immensely flattered, a wide smile on his face. “A-alright, if you say so.”

Hermione pursed her lips, training her eyes away from her ex-boyfriend. “And Draco? Harry, do you want to try? You have spent more time with him than we have.”

Harry shrugged. “Sure.”

 She turned to Griphook, who had spent the whole two days beside the sink, gibbering and regrowing his broken bones with a potion called Skele-Grow. “Griphook? Are you okay with coming with us and helping?”

Griphook gave her a shifty look. “Yeah, sure, as long as I get the Sword of Gryffindor after.”

“You’ll get it the minute we’re done with it.” L monotoned. “We don’t have any particular need for it once the horcruxes are gone, do we, Hermione?”

“No, we don’t. So Griphook, Light and I will be under the Invisibility cloak (will we fit, Harry? You sure?) and Ron and Harry are playing the Death Eaters. Everything’s clear, right?”

“No.” L stated. “You haven’t detailed my role in your plot.”

“Oh.” Hermione blinked. “Um.”

“I will be coming. I will not let Light go unsupervised.”

Light squinted. “Unsupervised? What am I, a child?”

L raised his eyebrows at him before turning back to Hermione, who was tapping her wand on her bottom lip. “Well…I guess we could fit you under the invisibility cloak. Harry?”

Harry shrugged. “Ever since you cast that Extension charm on it, it’s been pretty fine fitting lots of people under it. I don’t think Griphook counts as a whole person anyway.”

“That’s settled, then.” Hermione banged her hands on the table. “We’re leaving immediately. Gather your things. Ron, Harry, I’ll give you your Polyjuice, it’s in my room.”

Light pulled out his ivory wand, sweeping his hair out of his eyes. Luna stared at it in fascination with her humungous eyes as it quickly flooded with silver. “Beautiful. Maybe Misa only wants you so badly so that you can bless her future children.”

L cracked a grin. “More like so she can have your future children at all.”

Light rolled his eyes. “Look, L, if you’re not going to focus, I’m kicking you out of the invisibility cloak gang, alright?”

L laughed. “’Invisibility cloak gang.’ And you wonder why I think of you as a child.”

“Why the fuck do you want to have sex with someone you think of as a child?” Dean interjected, incredulous. L gave him a creepy grin and the boy slowly backed away. “Right, I don’t think I want to know.”

“Don’t worry, Raito-kun.” L ruffled his hair. “I’ll take you however I can get you, childish or not.”

Light elbowed the detective away. “Fuck off, L.”

L would likely have been content with continuing to goad Light for a couple more years had they not been interrupted by the arrival of the newly-made Severus Snape and his trusty student Draco Malfoy. Light’s mouth dropped open.

“That’s fucking awesome.”

Snape grinned (uncharacteristically, though Light didn’t know that) and twirled for him, making him laugh. The man got a serious, semi-bored expression and looked down at him from above his hooked nose. “Ah, yes, Harry Potter, our new cele-bri-ty.” He said, making Dean and the new Draco crack up. Hermione smiled tightly, suppressing laughter of her own. “Bewitching the mind…ensnaring the senses…” He waddled around, hands crossing tightly over his chest. Light grinned as Hermione slowly broke and started to giggle.

L was completely unimpressed. “Weren’t we leaving?”

Hermione gathered herself. “Yes, we were. Harry, the cloak?”

Draco handed over a shimmering piece of fabric that, on one side, was completely transparent. Light was transfixed by it, walking over and touching its glimmering cloth with one hand. “It feels like…water. Fluid. It’s so beautiful.”

Harry/Draco nodded. “It was my father’s.”

L hopped off of his chair. “So, are we apparating?”

“Yeah. Here, hold my hand.” Ron/Snape offered to Light, who took it, noting just how much larger it was than usual. L took Hermione’s proffered hand as the witch gave Griphook a suspicious glance.

“Apparate to the alley right beside Gringott’s. Griphook, don’t betray us.”

The goblin rolled his eyes. “I am entirely without motivation, my dear Hermione Granger. I have no compulsion to betray you.”

“Good. On three, then. One, two, three!”

Ron’s hand squeezed around Light’s, and the air was punched out of his lungs as they popped out of Shell cottage and fell on their knees in the cobblestoned alley outside the bank they were preparing to rob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La la la more fluff for you! (No worries, the angst is breathing down your necks, just wait XD)
> 
> Two things: First off, check out this awesome cover art for this story by Neblinadesol on Tumblr: https://neblinadesol.tumblr.com/post/173654584895/para-smritz-peque%C3%B1a-escena-3-el-fic-con-el
> 
> Second off, I'm writing a Lawlight story in a Hunger Games AU which is kinda weird but also kinda addictive to write so if that's your jam, check it out!
> 
> Review and comment! They make my day :D


	27. The Imperius Curse

The lot of them appeared on the damp cobblestones in the alley outside of the Gringott’s Wizarding Bank, and Griphook, for one, looked entirely displeased with the arrangement. “Well, I’ll help you through, but you’ve got to be careful. The security measures-”

Hermione pursed her lips. “Draco is kin of Bellatrix, her sister’s son, and she would likely have left everything she owned to the followers of the Dark Lord and Narcissa Malfoy. It isn’t far-fetched, is it?”

The goblin yawned. “No, it seems feasible, especially since the goblins at Gringott’s aren’t in the best moods towards wizards these days anyway. We’re not going to try extra hard to defend your stuff if you act like gits to us.”

“Besides, _Imperio_ , right?” Light grinned, holding up his pulsating silver wand. Hermione seemed reassured.

“Yeah, a great part of this plan rests on you, Light. Don’t mess this up.”

Light was affronted. “I don’t mess things up.”

“Well, let’s get on with it!” Snape/Ron said, and Hermione gathered L, Light and Griphook together under the invisibility cloak, fit snugly together so they had to wobble along, whispering to Ron to get a move on.

They sneaked through the neglected street of Diagon Alley, passing several muggle-borns gathered in wretched groups begging for food and information from every pureblood walking past, and stepped through the entrance of the Bank. They entered the great golden hall of Gringott’s with Snape and Draco taking the lead. All the goblins in the hall looked up at them, scrutinising them as they did their paperwork.

A Death Eater, who had casually been smoking what looked like a cigarette, came over from where he had been intimidating a goblin and leered at Snape, dusting his cigarette over the man’s shoes. He wore an elaborate white mask, possibly meant to keep the threat anonymous. It was a popular intimidation technique. Light, huddled under the cloak, readied his wand, looking to Hermione for permission. The bushy-haired girl frowned.

“What’s this, Snape? Babysitting for the Malfoys, are you?” He said mockingly. Light raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who gestured for him to wait.

Snape/Ron sneered. “What’s this, Travers? Babysitting the goblins?”

Hermione smiled, relieved, as the Death Eater relaxed his stance. “Yeah. After the whole Lestrange fiasco, the Lord felt it better to have one of us stationed everywhere important.”

 _Shit_. Light widened his eyes at Hermione, who had on a pained expression.

“Right, well, carry on, then. I am under the same orders.” Ron drawled, and the Death Eater narrowed his eyes.

“What orders are _you_ under? I know for a fact you’re not sharing guard duty with me.”

The redhead (or rather, brunet) faltered. “N-no, I’m not. I am to check the contents of Bellatrix’s vault before it is moved, to make sure nothing gets lost in the transfer.”

The Death Eater stepped back, his hand going for his wand. “What transfer? What are you talking about? There is no transfer!”

 _“Imperio!”_ Light hissed. There was a burst of power from his silver wand and the Death Eater grew stock-still, quietly returning his wand to its pocket in his robe. Beside him, L was frantically biting his thumbnail. “Mole, mole, mole, mole, mole.” He muttered, chewing the skin around his nail when the fingernail itself grew too short.

Hermione grew pale. “The information was fake. We need to be quick, Light. Forget the secrecy, get us in.”

Light nodded grimly. “Imperio!” He pointed his wand at the goblins surrounding them, all of whom seemed to no longer notice them. “Griphook, where are the vaults?”

“Downstairs. I’ll lead the way. Bring a Gringott’s goblin with you.” He waddled along as fast as he could, the entire troupe following, L dragging a complacent Imperiused goblin along with them, the Invisibility cloak discarded and wrapped around Draco/Harry’s shoulders in their haste.

Draco/Harry pressed his fingers on where his scar should be. “Don’t worry, he hasn’t caught on yet. We don’t have time, though. Knowing the Dark Lord, he probably has Death Eaters stationed around here out of view, waiting for us.” Draco/Harry said optimistically as they all piled into a mine-cart with tracks leading down into what seemed to be a shadowy, rocky cavern. It started with a bump on Griphook’s command, rolling swiftly through a hidden waterfall that soaked everyone, chilling them to the bone without leaving them wet. Light gripped his wand tightly, looking at Ron in alarm.

“You’re not Snape anymore!”

Ron touched his robes. “Well, shit. The waterfall removes enchantments.”

“Redo the Imperius curse! The goblin is waking!” Griphook cried, shaking Light to action.

“Imperio!” He tapped the head of the shivering wide-eyed goblin, who immediately became polite and distant again. Griphook sighed with relief.

“Thank the gods. We need his Clanker.”

“Clanker?”

Griphook pulled out what looked like a belt with huge bells strapped to it from the pocket of the Imperiused goblin. “Clanker.”

L looked paler than usual, his eyes huge and dark. “This is insane.”

Light nudged him, giving him a mock-reassuring smile. “You need to chill out, L.” The detective did not appreciate his words, glaring at him as he pulled his own mahogany wand out of his belt loops and held it at ready.

The goblin exited the cart  as it lurched to a stop, snapping his fingers. “Hurry up, now. The dragon seems to be sleeping.”

“Dragon?” L’s mouth dropped open. _“Dragon?”_

“Oh, my fucking God.” Light breathed as they passed a full-sized dragon, its scales shining green and purple in the sunlight coming from the open roof above it. It rumbled as it let out a snore, a puff of smoke streaming out its nostril, its head probably ten feet long and six feet wide. The entire length of it Light could barely even see, it disappeared into a shadowy dungeon, only the length of its neck stretching out into the main hall.

“What else did you think the Clanker was for? It’s trained to expect pain when it hears the noise.” Griphook informed off-handedly.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “That’s barbaric.”

“Hurry on, now. The Lestrange vault…it’s right here. Get the goblin to open it.”

Light, at a loss, gestured towards the vault with his wand, but the Imperiused goblin had him covered, quickly pulling out a ring of keys and selecting one made of heavy iron, swinging the thick door open to reveal a vault filled with glowing gold coins and artefacts.

Light pressed his lips together. “Great. Just great. How will we find the Horcrux?”

L gave him an ironical smile. “We have our bloodhound right here. Our Horcrux-finder.” He patted Harry on the back. “Go fetch.”

Harry obeyed instantly, making Light wonder if he was under an Imperius curse of his own. “It’ll be somewhere around here…my scar will hurt when I come near it…”

Light got a thought, following Harry into the vault. “What about the Accio charm?”

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s protected against all enchantments…”

Light waved that aside. “I’m pretty sure my wand will work. Power of the Sword of Gryffindor, remember? What do I call it? Accio Horcrux? Accio…what?”

“Cup. Accio Hufflepuff’s cup.” Harry said with utmost certainty. Light shrugged.

“Alright.” He braced himself, raising his wand. “Accio Hufflepuff’s cup!”

For a moment, nothing happened, but then from amidst the treasures and jewellery there was a clattering, and suddenly a golden cup appeared, spinning towards him and landing neatly in his hand. Light grinned. “Sweet! Can we destroy it here? Did you bring the Swor-”

There was a rustling and a snap from among the treasures, and suddenly something whammed into Light’s shoulder, pushing him forward onto his knees. He blinked, his hands going to the spot burning with pain. His fingers touched a sharp edge right above his armpit. “Wha…?”

L shrieked madly, making to rush over, but Harry blocked him, his mouth round as he yelled something that escaped Light. His head was swimming. The world was darkening, and there was another slam in his gut. He opened his mouth and blood spilled down his chin.

Using all of his strength, he threw the cup in the direction of the doorway, as a third slam hit him in the thigh. They were all attached to ropes, he noticed, enchanted ropes that could pull him in three directions and tear him apart. He swallowed, the bitter taste of blood running down his throat. He gasped. “Pr… _protego_!”

Luckily, _luckily_ , the ropes did not pull him apart. A fourth arrow (it was a crossbow bolt, there had been crossbows lining the ceiling, waiting to aim at a possible intruder, how had he not seen that the minute he entered?) shot forward, hitting his magical shield and falling aside uselessly.

When he was sure there were no crossbows left, he crumpled down onto the ground and dropped his hand, his wand slack in his grip. His head fell back against the countless glowing artefacts lining the walls of the vault.

 _Pain, pain, pain_ , wasn’t epinephrine supposed to block pain? He could feel the adrenaline in his veins, and yet he felt the entry point of each bolt with burning emphasis, like three white-hot pokers had skewered him through. There was L, running towards him with naked fear all over his face. Light managed a shaky smile that made him feel like he had to puke.

“Raito, no, no, no, you can’t do this, oh God. You can’t die _, tu ne peux pas, je t'aime, je t'aime Raito, tu ne peux pas mourir, Raito, dieu._ ”

Light tried to raise one hand to run it over his pale face and rub away the tears running down his cheeks, but his fingers were coated in blood. He only managed to draw two matching red streaks along the white skin, dropping his hand when he realised what a mess he was making.

Harry choked behind him. His hand was pressed against his scar, and his eyes glowed too green in the darkness. “He’s coming!” He hissed. “He knows we took it! He’s coming!”

Light swallowed another gulp of blood. “Go.”

L’s eyes blazed with anger. “Go? Go, and leave you? Not a chance, Raito. I will not go. Not a chance in _hell_.” He grabbed the stem of the bolt sticking out of his stomach. Light squeaked in pain and he immediately let go. “I need to pull it out, Raito-kun, I need to get you free!”

“No time!” He heaved, his hands pressing against the wound on his stomach. “No…time. Go. Now. Don’t die. Won’t…forgive you. Destroy Horcrux.”

L hissed at him, his eyes alive with fury and shining with tears. “You are delusional if you think I will leave you here, Light Yagami. Delusional. Let me pull them out.”

“They’ll…they’ll come, L! They’ll hurt you…” Light gasped as blood ran down from his lips. At the rate he was bleeding out, he didn’t have much time left. “Herm…Hermione…healing spell.”

Hermione came forward, sobbing heavily. “Vulnera Sanentur. It’ll stop the blood loss. Light, we can’t leave you.”

“Can…take care of myself. Can’t take care of him too.”

 _“Raito!_ ” L sobbed out. “Raito, I’m not leaving you!”

Light gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut to compose himself how much ever he could. “Fine.” He breathed out of his nose, trying his hardest to centre himself, his wand’s aura glowing with his effort as he tightened his grip on it. L’s eyes widened in horror as he realised what Light was planning.

“Light, don’t-”

_“Imperio.”_

Immediately, L got to his feet, whipping around and stalking off towards the exit. Hermione burst into a new volley of tears.

“Herm…don’t let him…mope. He…tends to do that. Go before they come.”

“Light…”

“Don’t make me Imperio you too.” Light said with a shaky grin and Hermione sobbed harder, though it did prompt her to stand up and walk towards the exit. “Light…it’s Vulnera Sanentur.”

“Got it. Go. Destroy Horcrux. Win it.” He grinned at her, sure that his usually perfect white teeth were coated in blood.

He decided not to close his eyes after that. He was feeling very drowsy, and he knew that was a bad sign. He raised his wand, tapping the wound on his gut, wincing as he did. _“Vulnera Sanentur.”_

It worked, he knew, because he felt just a little better. The end of his white wand was painted scarlet, he noted as he repeated it for the wound on his shoulder and the one on his thigh. He finally shut his eyes, leaning back against the gold treasures supporting him. His head was killing him, everything was killing him.

He knew he wouldn’t rest long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! There was so much fluff for so long I had to make up for it! (Favourite chapter tho, like I seriously love this chapter XD)
> 
> Translation of the French: "you can't, I love you, I love you Raito, you can't die, Raito, god."
> 
> Review and comment :D


	28. Candy

It had been exactly six months ago that he and Light had visited the candy shop together.

Half a year, was that really true? Had he known Light half a year? It felt like minutes, like they had barely been with each other at all. Time passed so quickly, one moment he was Kira, the God of the New World, and another moment he was the sweet, innocent Light who checked on his candy reserves and informed him that he had three days left before Watari needed to make another supply trip. Blink too long and he was Kira again, clutching the notebook and screaming as the memories flooded into him, another blink and he was Light once more, begging him to stop hurting him. And after that there was only Light, Light confessing his schemes, Light giving him the notebook, looking absolutely ashamed, Light telling Rem that he would no longer be Kira and so there was no reason to fear for Misa’s life, Light with that roguish grin as he chattered excitedly about the Shinigami realm.

And Light, gurgling and gasping with a mouth full of blood as he pleaded with him to leave-

Anyway. The candy shop.

The memory started with one of those rare weeks when Watari needed to return to the orphanage to check on the successors since Roger had something better to do (fucking Roger, he was the laziest man L knew, and L knew a lot of people). L had dismissed him without much concern, there wasn’t much to do at the Kira Investigation Headquarters anyway. L’s main suspect was suffering from amnesia and they had just about no leads as to who was committing the current Kira murders. L had thought he had had everything under control.

“Nope, we’ve completely run out.” Light notified the detective on the third day, holding up an empty jar of candy with a smug little grin on his face. L knew the brunet didn’t approve of his eating habits (few people did) but to take such joy in the fact that he would be going through withdrawal for the next two days until Watari returned…(it raised his Kira percentage by 2% off the bat).

Anyway, by the end of the first day sans sweets, L was in a foul mood. Sitting at his desk solving one of his Deneuve cases in a fury, he typed out the final damning lines of his deduction and slammed the laptop shut. He swiped the computer off of the desk for good measure. It crashed to the floor at Raito-kun’s feet as the boy worked quietly by his side.

Curling his fists, L fixed his glare on the brunet, who slowly and deliberately closed his own laptop and swivelled his seat to face him, his expression impassive.

“They refuse to take action!” L vented suddenly, throwing his hands up at the sky. “The imbeciles, they refuse to act on the proof I have given them! What else can I do? All I can do is prove it! I can’t catch their criminals for them!”

Light sighed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Okay then. Ryuuzaki, get up.”

L crossed his arms. “What for? I have three more cases with these idiots-”

Light gripped the bridge of his nose as he stood up, whipping his brown coat from the back of his chair, where he draped it every morning in the hopes L would finally let them go outside that day. The handcuff chain jingled as he pulled the coat on over his uncuffed arm.

“Just come on, Ryuuzaki.” Light gave him an impatient glance out the corner of his eye, waiting for the detective to give him the key so he could yank the coat over his other arm.

“You are being secretive, Raito-kun. Kira percentage up one percent.”

“How fucking mature.” Light rolled his eyes. “Watari was right, you do act like a spoilt child.”

“Yes, let’s all value Watari’s opinion when it was he who left me without candy.” L grumbled, making Light groan.

“You’re impossible. Look, will you shut up if I buy you some candy?”

L eyed him suspiciously. “Where will you get the money, Raito-kun?”

“My father left me emergency money, I’m sure he won’t mind if I use it to ward off my fucking nervous breakdown.” Light reached into the pocket of the coat draped over one of his arms and pulled out a stack of Yen. Against his own better judgement (seeing the money in Light’s hands sent L into a spasm of joy) he hurriedly drew the key from his pocket and threw it at his Kira suspect. The boy smirked as he unlocked his cuff, pulled on his sleeve and locked it again.

“So, L.” Light started as he was pulled along by the chain of his handcuff down the sidewalk. “Do you know where the candy shop is or are we just running around until you find one?”

L grinned. “I know the perfect place, Raito-kun. Don’t you worry.”

Light grew tense as they pushed open the glass doors of a store that looked like a candy-themed wonderland, the smell of sugar a fog around the place for at least a block. “Listen, L, I only have enough money for like two candy bars, got it? I’m not buying the whole shop for you.”

L narrowed his eyes at his suspect. “Your money is enough to buy three deluxe chocolate bars or ten average ones.”

The brunet stared at him. “I’m not letting you spend all my money, L! Who do you think I am?”

The people in the cheery yellow store glanced over at the duo as they entered and blatantly stared at the handcuff chain. L was amused to think of it from their perspective, it must have looked like some sort of gay kink, and between such unlikely people too. One an upstanding, decent, attractive nineteen-year old and the other a strange hunchbacked detective with crazy hair and circles around his eyes dark enough to look like smudged kohl.

While Light tried to hide the chain from prying eyes by sticking as close to L as possible, the detective couldn’t bring himself to care. He busied himself with filling his basket with everything that looked delicious and exotic within the shop: cake, cupcakes, chocolate bars, chocolate sticks, wafer sticks filled with cream, ice cream, jellybeans, and one (just one) sugar-dusted doughnut filled with whipped cream and melted chocolate. Light noticed his stash, breaking out of his embarrassment-induced stupor and staring at L.

“Ryuuzaki, I said two candy bars. What the fuck?”

L gave him a small self-satisfied smile. “Raito-kun, you said _you_ are paying for only two candy bars.”

“Yeah, so what’s up with… _that?”_

L’s smile grew. “Well, Yagami Raito, you are forgetting one important detail. I happen to be a billionaire.” With a smooth swish that he would be proud of for days, L adjusted the sweets in his arms and whipped out a shiny credit card. Light’s eyes grew impossibly large.

“Does Watari know you have that?”

“No.” His smile stayed wide as he propped up his mountain on the cashier’s counter, making the poor cashier gawk before hurrying to cash it in as quickly as she could. “But again, Raito-kun is forgetting that I am twenty-five years old. I am very much capable of handling my own finances.”

“I don’t call this handling finances, Ryuuzaki.” Light said haughtily, raising his nose at L. The detective laughed.

“Would you prefer I save it all? _Billionaire_ , Raito-kun. I can afford to buy myself candy.”

Raito-kun did not lower his chin, looking down at the detective. “You know, regular billionaires donate their money to charity. They don’t splurge it all on cake and ice cream.”

That made L chuckle. “Charity? Raito-kun wishes for me to spend my money on a charity?”

Light gave him an incredulous look. “Why are you laughing? I mean, blind schools, orphanages, dying countries…”

“For your information, Raito-kun, I do manage an orphanage.” L paused a beat. “However, since Raito-kun cares so much, I shall donate to any charity of his choice if he helps me carry my sweets.”

Light shook his head disdainfully at the grinning detective. “Whatever, Ryuuzaki.” He scooped up some candy bars and the tub of ice-cream, leaving the bulk of it to the raven-haired man, who picked it up gladly and waddled over to the exit. Again, all the customers were staring at them, their whispers rustling behind them. Light looked pained, ducking his head and keeping his gaze firmly in front of him.

“Raito-kun is embarrassed of me.” L stated after a few minutes. Light gave him a withering look.

“Yeah, no shit, Ryuuzaki. You are an embarrassment.”

L crossed his arms haughtily as they approached headquarters and entered the elevator. “Whatever it is, Raito-kun, at least I am a happy embarrassment.” There was a pause, _one, two, three,_ and Light burst out laughing, much to L’s surprise. These were the initial days of the handcuffs, L wasn’t used to hearing Light laugh out loud yet, and definitely not genuinely.

“That you are, Ryuuzaki. That you are.” The brunet chuckled, patting L’s shoulder in a way that was not at all condescending or demeaning, in a way that seemed…friendly.

It made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

They carried the sweets all the way to the kitchen on the residential floor of the headquarters, where Light hopped onto the counter and crunched on a carrot as L deliberated on which sweet to start with first. They had bought too many, and L’s stomach was growling far too loudly for him to make a logical decision.

Finally, the teenager pointed his nibbled carrot at a particularly scrumptious-looking half-melted bar of chocolate as he swung his legs under the counter. “I suggest that one, it looks good.”

L glanced up at him, baffled. “You like chocolate? I thought you didn’t like sweet things.”

Light smiled amusedly. “I don’t, but I make an exception for dark chocolate. It’s not sweet, you see.”

Slowly, a wide grin split the detective’s face. The butterflies clawed at the lining of L’s stomach as he hopped up onto the counter beside Light. He grabbed the brunet’s carrot and flicked it away.

“Hey!” Light protested.

L nudged the boy with his shoulder. “Forget your carrot, we’ll split this.”

They broke the candy bar in half, getting the melted gunk all over their fingers. Light had whined about that for awhile, but after L smeared his white shirt with as much chocolate as he could the griping turned into carefree childish laughter that made the butterflies in L’s stomach multiply until he could barely taste the candy.

_Kira and L, sharing a chocolate bar, swinging their legs off the counter of a sunlit kitchen, feeling a barrier between them break._

_“Expecto Patronum.”_

The tip of his wand glowed silver, as silver as Light’s wand used to, spilling out into the ether, glowing brighter than the moon as a head stretched out from the mass, its body streamlining and growing powerful muscles. This time, it wasn’t a magpie, it was a fox, its head proud and lifted high, its body glossy and handsome, flicking its long, bushy tail at L as it stalked forlornly around the room.

“Your Patronus is different.” Ron said quietly from his perch in the corner of the dingy motel room they had huddled inside, not daring to return to Shell Cottage after robbing the Gringott’s Bank. It would have put everyone in danger, not that L gave a shit about anyone at this point.

“Go.” L urged the fox, which groomed its silky coat and crooned. “Go, you bleeding idiot. Get out of here!”

Hermione’s lower lip trembled as she suppressed the urge to weep. “L, it can’t find him unless you know where he is. If…if it’s not leaving, that means he’s either not at Gringott’s…or…”

L gave her the most vicious glare he could muster, his heart pounding a million miles in his chest. “He is not dead, Hermione Granger. He is not dead, and don’t you dare imply that again.”

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers on his scar, but he looked discouraged. “I’m…I’m trying to see, but You-Know-Who’s…blocked our connection, somehow.”

L was disgusted. “You…you are supposed to be wizards. You use magic, and you can’t find a way to communicate with someone?” His voice dripped with furious contempt. “I’m not asking for much, I’m not asking for a fancy animal spirit, I’m asking to see him. _See him_. I just want to see that he’s okay. If I was in my world, with my resources, I could have achieved that _easily_. You, you’re pathetic. No wonder you’re being destroyed by that Dark Lord. Maybe you deserve to be destroyed.”

Ron seemed sickly and pale, to L’s bitter scorn. He stared blankly at the fox patronus, which curled up where it was and snuggled its muzzle into its warm fur. “Light’s patronus was a fox? I never would have thought…I assumed it would have been a…a cat, maybe. This really beautiful Persian, sitting all royal and stuff. Kind of proud and stuck up, but…but caring and sensitive and intelligent, knowing just what to say. I only knew him for five or six weeks, but…that was all he needed, really. Five weeks and I would have given my life for him.”

“Stop referring to him in past tense, you bastard.” L hissed. “He’s not dead. Hermione gave him a healing spell-”

“You never deserved him.” Ron glared at the hunched man. “Never in a million years.”

L’s anger, which was already so close to the surface, came boiling over. His normally impassive face contorted with fury as he strode up to the redhead. “Yeah? Well neither did you. Neither _do_ you. You fucking bastard, you think you know who he is? You think he’s a kind, generous little flower, don’t you? He’s not. He’s a childish, arrogant, prideful, brilliant man of his own right, and he is _strong._ He doesn’t bend to the likes of you. He doesn’t _associate_ with the likes of you. I don’t know why he tolerates you, but it isn’t because he cares. He would never care for a spineless bastard like you.”

Hermione stepped in. “Ron, L, please. This isn’t the time.”

L wheeled around to her. “Then _when_ is the time? How long can I take this bastard disrespecting my Raito by pretending he can stand in the same league as him?”

Ron was flushed. “And I suppose you’re in the same league, aren’t you?”

“I am. I am, because he chose me. He chose me over an empire, over Godhood itself. Stop pretending-”

Harry cried out, interrupting L’s rant and getting everyone’s attention. The Boy-Who-Lived looked dazed, staggering around and collapsing with a whimper on the floor. Hermione ran to his side.

“Harry? Harry, what happened?”

Harry looked at her with large eyes, shivering ever so slightly. “Hermione…he’s triumphant. He’s happy, he’s so happy. And…and I saw Light.”

L immediately scrambled over. “What? What did you see? Is he okay?”

Harry shook his head, making L’s heart drop down to his stomach. “He’s healed, but…”

“But what? What happened to him?”

Harry turned back to Hermione, his eyes round and fearful. “We need to get the next Horcrux. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early chapter, because why not? 
> 
> I love writing flashbacks, they make me feel all happy inside :D You're getting the Voldy action you all want so much next, so stay tuned! 
> 
> Review and comment!:D


	29. Enemy

“He has awoken. Inform the Dark Lord.”

It was a clinical voice, detached and ever so nasal, as if the man’s nose was too long for his voice to escape it unscathed. He felt a hand press on his forehead, and a sharp pain went down his body, from the site of contact all the way down to his toes. Light squirmed in his place, his eyes fluttering reluctantly open.

It was a dark, dingy, familiar place he was kept in. He recognised the architecture from somewhere, arching windows, stone-and-marble floors, dark, heavy curtains; a mixture of medieval English design and a few Victorian touches…

_Malfoy Manor._

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected it; he knew that if he survived the vault, he would have been captured and possibly tortured by the Dark Lord, and he wasn’t usually wrong.

“Are you able to move your head?” The nasal voice piped up again, grabbing his wavering attention. Drowsily, Light managed to drop his head to the side, turning it so that he met the man’s eyes. Black eyes, blacker than L’s, set in a long, familiar face, wavy, greasy black hair falling up until his shoulders as he stood straight as a poker in his place beside Light. He wore robes that smelled of chemicals and toxins; the lab assistant back in his high school had smelled just like him. Light studied his stern expression, a lump forming in his throat.

_Snape. Ron had called him Snape. Disguises…Gringott’s…_

His head was starting to clear. He nodded slightly, trying to say something to answer the man’s question, but all that came out was a muffled groan. He blinked, realising that his mouth was abnormally full, his tongue choked with the taste of cotton.

His heart rate sped up, he attempted to pull his hands from where they rested on the armrest of a chair, but they strained against near-unbreakable bindings. He widened his eyes, his breath coming out in uneven puffs, staring at Snape in a panic.

The man was an actual Death Eater, he knew that, but why wasn’t he wearing a white mask like the one in Gringott’s? Did they know that he knew his face? There were only three possible reasons: either no Death Eater wore a mask in the proximity of their Dark Lord (unlikely), Snape was too low ranked a Death Eater to be warranted a mask, like the Snatchers in the Forest of Dean (unlikely, the man at Gringott’s had treated Snape as a rival, rather than a subordinate)…or. Or he wasn’t expected to come out of this alive, and so didn’t require any practice of secrecy.

No. No, they wouldn’t do that. He was Kira, he was the owner of the Death Note. The Dark Lord knew about the Death Note and wanted to use it, didn’t he? Wizards can’t use the Death Note, he deduced that when the Note burned Hermione, Harry and Ron. Muggles, muggles could use it, muggles like him…

_Muggles, like the people they hunted and killed for sport…_

Light let out a muffled cry, tugging uselessly at his bindings and whipping his head around, looking for something, anything that could be useful. The room was furnished like a regular sitting room, a few plush sofas scattered around the room, a bookshelf full of ancient, dusty books and littered with knickknacks, and…and an antique coffee-table with a single item on it, an undecorated wand, white as ivory, sitting in an elaborate metal holder.

They were keeping it there to tempt him. There was no way he could reach over to get it and even if he could…even if he could…they must have taken precautions to make sure he couldn’t use it.

He looked down at himself. He was clothed in wizard’s robes, black and sober, best to hide bloodstains. Another sure sign that he was going to be tortured. His hands were secured to the arms of the polished, expensive chair with thick, glowing magical ropes that dug painfully into the skin of his wrists. He was gagged and his ankles were similarly secured to the legs of the chair. No, without magic, he wasn’t going anywhere.

He sighed, suppressing his optimistic urge to test his bindings. They were made of magic, and he didn’t have any to combat it with. Without the pieces of the note, he was completely at their mercy.

“Do you feel any nausea? Are your thoughts foggy?”

The voice broke the dark path of his thoughts, bringing the slimy haired man, _Snape_ , back to the forefront of his mind. He wondered for a minute if he should cooperate with the man and answer his questions…but they had healed his wounds. He supposed that rebellion at this stage would only mean more pain for him. He would wait for an opportunity, that was the pragmatic thing to do.

Reluctantly, he shook his head, prompting a satisfied “Hmm…” from the lab assistant of a man. Snape walked stiffly over in front of him, picking up his pale wand from the coffee-table. Light’s eyes widened as the man studied it thoughtfully before gently touching it to Light’s forefinger.

Nothing happened. No silver markings, no aura. Light almost burst into tears right there. It was gone, all his powers were gone. No strength of the Sword of Gryffindor, no Death Note, nothing. He was _nothing_.

He settled for assuming a serious, undaunted expression to compensate for his new helplessness, his eyes cool and narrowed, his head held stiffly high.

He kept that expression steady as Snape suddenly swept out of the way, replacing the wand in its holder on the table and bowing deeply. Three Death Eaters, all with masks on (what were these mixed signals?) glided inside through a side door in full black robed attire, holding their wands out as they retreated to three corners of the room. In swept a strange, malformed creature.

He was tall, maybe four inches taller than himself, with a shiny bald head and bleach-white skin. His eyes were crimson red, with slit pupils like that of a cat. His nose was sunken, his body thin in his flowing robes and nails long as talons. The great Lord Voldemort. He didn’t look magnificent, but there was a magnetic power in his strange eyes, _power_. Light wondered if his own eyes looked that way when he held the Note.

The Death Eaters bowed low as he entered and didn’t stand up until he waved a hand at them, dismissing them unceremoniously. Every Death Eater exited except Snape, who straightened in his corner and waited patiently with his head lowered.

_Hello, Kira._

The voice was like the sound of multiple snakes hissing at the same time, dark and sinister, it reminded him of how Harry had opened the locket Horcrux in the woods. Parseltongue, was it? How could he understand it?

Had the wizard even spoken, or did he hear the voice in his mind?

_So you have been destroying my Horcruxes, have you?_

Light’s panicked exclamation was smothered as he strained against his bonds. The wizard hadn’t spoken, not physically.

_I would call you a muggle, had you been from my world. But you are no ordinary muggle, are you, Kira?_

Control. Control, he needed to get himself under control. The wizard was watching him with those unnerving eyes, and it would not do to let him think Kira was a vulnerable teenager. It would only mean more pain.

 _Yes, control. It is what we all desire, isn’t it? It is what unites our philosophies._ The Lord Voldemort let out a chuckle. _Muggles are amusing, if a blemish on society. You are so similar to them, Kira, despite your extraordinary qualities. Perhaps it is a result of your upbringing among them, or perhaps it is because you are not a true wizard._

He felt the Dark Lord burrow into his consciousness like an ice-pick, pulling at his memories and ideas. His thoughts were not safe. Light ducked his head and took in a deep breath, steeling himself before looking the Dark Lord in the eyes, his gaze cold and steady.

What is it you want, Lord Voldemort? Why are you holding me here?

The Dark Lord chuckled again, and the sound grated against his ears. _You are bold, aren’t you? Most do not attempt to communicate with me through their thoughts. They say courage is a Gryffindor’s quality, but they neglect how much of an iron will a Slytherin possesses._

You did not leave me much choice in the matter. Why am I held like this? Are you attempting to torture me again? If you are, be assured that you will get no information from me, and if you do, they will all be lies, no matter how brutal you are.

The Lord Voldemort looked intrigued, a smile stretching his pale, brittle lips. _Ah, yes, I did hear that my dear servant Bellatrix Lestrange tortured you when you were under her care a few days ago. Perhaps your transgressions were not fully due to the Order getting to you first. Perhaps you have been given no reason to join my side._

Light narrowed his eyes as the snake-eyed wizard glanced sharply at Snape, gesturing with a taloned hand towards the brunet. The Death Eater swept towards him, untying the gag behind his head and whipping it off gracefully.

Light licked his chapped lips, swallowing to make his sandpaper-dry throat more bearable.

The Lord Voldemort gave him a hard look from where he sat, his clawed hands pressed together in his lap. “Perhaps you are more comfortable now.” His real voice sounded much less grand than the Parseltongue-accented voice in his mind; a flatter, hoarser imitation of the same tone.

_Or do you prefer this? Do make up your mind, I do not like to be kept waiting._

Light bit his lip. “T-talking. I prefer talking.” His voice was husky and sore, unsatisfactory. The Dark Lord gave him a scrutinising look.

“Kira, the wielder of the Death Note. I have heard a lot about you from Misa Amane of the Other Dimension and the Death Gods.”

Light sighed ruefully. “I’m sure you have.”

The Lord Voldemort tapped his chin with a taloned finger. “Kira, I am faced with a dilemma. Initially, I had wanted your Death Note to use as a weapon against dissenters in my realm. It is the ultimate weapon, don’t you agree? The stories Misa Amane told me about your rule as the Judge and Jury of your world, it appears you are fully familiar with the uses and nuances of the Notebook of Death.”

Light shrugged. “I was, yes.”

“Unfortunately, I ran into a problem. The Death God informed me that no natural wizard can use the Death Note, and there came the rub. I was left with the ultimate weapon just within my grasp, and no way to use it. Misa Amane then brought up our pact, and I realised that you were the answer. You, who wanted Godlike power over the lesser men, a man with a philosophy so similar to my own. Allied with you, I could conquer the world, I could give up my fruitless search for the reason the Elder wand isn’t as powerful as I thought and focus on wiping my enemies out of existence.” The dark wizard grinned grotesquely, as though thoroughly enjoying the idea of scrubbing dissenters out of his world like some sort of intergalactic maidservant.

Light licked his lips, opting not to answer. If the wizard thought he was going to ally with him right this minute…he would be right. Light would ally with him, do whatever he wanted until he got his piece of the Death Note, and then he would _destroy him_. He would scrub _him_ out of exis…shit.

His face burned as Voldemort gave him another of his scrutinising looks. Controlling his thoughts was difficult. He was used to gloating in his thoughts, it was how he functioned. He had to _shut up!_

He wished his hands were free so that he could slap himself.

“And that is exactly my problem, Light Yagami. Somehow, unfortunately, you were corrupted by the Potter boy and his friends, and you began to destroy my Horcruxes. And to make matters worse, you were tortured by Bellatrix and her sister, giving you all the more reason to fight against me.” Those snakelike eyes narrowed. “How must I reverse these mistakes, Light Yagami? How would you reverse them, if you were in my place?”

Light gave him a haughty look. “Well, for one, I would not tie me to a chair. I really don’t see how that helps your case, restraining me like an enemy.”

Slowly, a menacing leer appeared on the malformed man’s face.

_Ah, but you are an enemy, aren’t you?_

Suddenly, his head was filled with static noise. Light screamed, pulling at his bindings as he writhed in his chair. _You destroyed my Horcruxes, parts of my soul. You were fully aware of what you were doing. What does that make you, if not an enemy?_

“Stop! _Stop it!_ Get out of my head, I thought you wanted to ally with me!” Light thrashed and squirmed, throwing his head back in agony as his every sense filled with static buzzing, his eyesight fading into a blur. “Stop!” It sounded like a nest of wasps had nested inside his head. _“Stop!”_

 _An enemy, you are an enemy, and I destroy my enemies. I wipe them from existence._ Blearily, Light watched as the blurry wizard pulled a blurred shape of a wand out from the folds of his robes. _I will wipe you from existence, Light Yagami. It is a simple solution, one I discussed in detail with the Death God, Ryuk._

And then there was an all-too-familiar cackling. A spiderlike black-and-white shape appeared behind Voldemort, grinning in all his glory. “Hey-lo, Light-o.”

“Ryuk, you fucking bastard! You _fucking_ _bastard!_ You-”

The Shinigami let out a howl of laughter. “Nice to meet you too, buddy! Kind of miss your apples, the ones Voldy gives out aren’t half as juicy as yours.”

Light glared at him from his hunched position in his bonds, peering through the sweaty strands of hair that were falling into his eyes. “You take us back, Ryuk! Take us home or I swear to God…”

“What? What will you do, Light-o?” He chortled.

Light snarled. “Oh, Ryuk. You said you don’t interfere in earthly matters, you don’t pick sides, and yet you’re advising Voldemort on how best to kill me.”

Ryuk glanced around sheepishly, rubbing the back of his elongated neck. “Well, that’s not my fault, really. Or maybe it is. You see, I’m not supposed to allow someone to make more than one Horcrux…but Voldy here made so many delicious sacrifices…so yeah. I’m stuck in purgatory here, and I lured you over for some entertainment. No worries, once you get out of his mess, you’re free of me. I won’t write your name when I’m bored or anything. If you leave the Death Note here, I’ll even return to the Shinigami realm.”

Light was puzzled. It wasn’t like Ryuk to offer up apologies. “But…I’m not getting out of this mess. You advised him on how to kill me. How exactly am I supposed to get out of death?” He blinked. “Are you roping me into making a Horcrux?”

Ryuk shook his head, still sheepish. “Well…no. Actually, I’m not supposed to have brought you here, so if I get the attention of the Shinigami King by making your Horcrux, I’ll probably…die. He always gives us a second chance, that’s how I’m still kicking, but third chances are spent in the netherworld. If you want a Horcrux, go to Rem.”

“Then how the fuck am I supposed to-”

“Light Yagami.” The Dark Lord tapped his wand on his skeletal hand, looking exceedingly amused. “I am not about to kill you.”

The teenager stared at the pale man. “You’re not? How else are you going to destroy me? Torture?”

“Of a kind.” The man gave him a sinister smile. “Have you heard of the charm _Obliviate?_ ”

Light felt his stomach sink. “Oblivia. Forgetfulness. You…you are going to wipe my memories.”

“Yes!” Voldemort chirped happily, startling Snape in the corner. “You’re quick! I shall wipe your memories. Ryuk mentioned that any memories you might have would be linked to the notebook, and if you touch it you will regain anything I took away. That was a temporary problem since my initial plan was just to wipe all of your memory of Potter and Bellatrix…but then he told me about your alternate personality, Kira, who is only suppressed due your misguided priorities.

“I shall ensure the return of Kira unhampered! There is nobody to stop Kira here, no enemies, so wiping your memories will easily readjust your priorities, especially with you being a natural Slytherin! With the raw strength of your magic, I don’t even _need_ the useless, malfunctioning Elder wand. You can function as both it and my Death Note. I have peered into Narcissa’s memories of your escape from Malfoy Manor, I have seen you with all your power, summoning the Sword of Gryffindor. It was glorious. Together, we can be unstoppable.”

Light felt goosebumps rise over his skin. He darted a vicious glare at Ryuk. “I don’t consent to this. I won’t allow you to-”

The Dark Lord cackled with joy, mimicking the Ryuk’s guffaw. “Don’t be ridiculous, Light Yagami. Of course you would consent to this, if you were in the right mind. I do not need this ‘vulnerable teenager’, I need the raw force of the God of the New World, and you are not it.” He raised his wand in a crooked hand.

“No, wait! Wait! I’ll cooperate, don’t wipe my memories, please! I swear I’ll do as you say-”

_“Obliviate!”_

_“No!”_ Light screamed.

For a moment, it felt how it had when Light Yagami had touched the notebook for the first time in months. A flood of images passed his eyes: the notebook falling from the sky, writing names furiously to the chime of church bells, Ryuk-the-Bastard-Shinigami, the glory of looking up websites deifying Kira, Raye Penbar, Naomi Misora, L, Ryuuzaki, and L again. The new memories: Crucio, honey, Ron, the kiss, _Crucio_ , the blank look in L’s eyes as he walked away, and the Lord Voldemort sitting across from him with that smugly satisfied grin on his ghostly face.

His life, relegated to a set of snapshots. Every memory he had made since he found the Death Note, he saw every one of them before the  Lord Voldemort stole them from him, leaving behind an empty void. He found himself choking, his eyes bulging, the ropes cutting into his wrists.

And then they were back, as the skeletal man touched him with a piece of cloth that enclosed smooth paper. He screamed this time, as he had so many months ago in the cockpit of a helicopter with a thumbnail-biting detective sitting beside him. The memories returned: Horcruxes, Dark Lords, manipulation, horror, magic, torture, _Crucio, Imperio, Avada Kedavra_ …and the Death Note was enlarged in his priorities. He felt that urge, that burning drive in him once more. He felt like himself again.

Quietly, his movements deliberately and dramatically slow, Kira raised his bowed head and looked the Lord Voldemort in the eye.

“Untie me.”

His voice was cold and hard, and behind the Dark Lord, Shinigami Ryuk burst into a cackling laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aghh, favourite chapter alert (I have so many favourite chapters XD)
> 
> Wonder what's with all the cliffhangers, there's something about this part of the story that makes every chapter end like that somehow XD and it just makes me upload all the faster because wow I love editing these so much!
> 
> Hey, I just thought of something. Did they foreshadow that famous "do you hear the bells?" scene in the fact that Kira's main soundtrack consists mainly of church bells?
> 
> Review and comment please! :D


	30. Kira

It was agony, being inside Voldemort’s head when he was happy (no, not Voldemort; the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Harry couldn’t afford to call him Voldemort again). The last time he had been so happy was when he had raided Dumbledore’s grave and desecrated his body, finding the Elder wand thanks to a slipup by the prisoner Grindelwald. This had happened back at Shell Cottage, right before the whole Gringott’s mishap, and his scar had almost burned a hole through his skin with the joy the Dark Lord had felt. A happy Dark Lord is worse than an angry Dark Lord, as if the Lord’s temper tantrums weren’t hard enough to deal with.

Right now, after Harry’s story was heard and the fever of anger had mostly evaporated, Hermione and Ron were sitting on the couch of the motel room together, puzzling over the Sword of Gryffindor and wondering what they should do with the goblin they had locked up in the bedroom (the bugger had tried to steal the sword as they were leaving the vault, taking advantage of their grief. Ron reckoned they should kill him. It would be a mercy to whoever the creature tried to trick next). L was poring over his spare page of the Death Note, the one he had had taped to his stomach, pretending he wasn’t ready to bite off the head of the next person who spoke to him. Harry was cross-legged on the floor, his face scrunched up in concentration as he tried his hardest to re-enter the mind that was causing all this trouble.

For a while there, it had been hard to enter the mind of the Dark Lord, but the minute he cast the Obliviate charm on the poor brunet tied up in front of him, his happiness had broken through any barriers separating the Boy-Who-Lived from his thoughts and Harry was right back in his mind, seeing through his snakelike eyes and hearing his thoughts as his own.

His scar seared, white-hot, and a flash of images raced past his eyes, accompanied by the most poisonous joy he could ever report feeling in his life. A long, knobbed wand made of Elder wood, held in a skeletal, white hand with curved fingernails, a Potions master (Snape, traitor, _murderer_ ) bowing deeply with a content smirk marring his face, the image of a Horcrux (a Horcrux! It was a tiara, delicate and fragile, with large crystals decorating its ends) and then Light. Light being untied from his chair, rubbing his wrists with that cold look in his eyes.

The Dark Lord was easier to see through when Light was around, as if the brunet was a balm for the man’s inhibitions, making him feel too exhilarated to keep a check on his emotions. Now, he was cackling with laughter, joined by the black monster behind him, as Light looked at them both with disdain.

“I am ready to cooperate.” Light said, studying the Lord Voldemort out of hooded eyes. The pale Lord looked too uncharacteristically excited, it made Harry nervous.

“Brilliant! I am looking forward to the beginning of our alliance, Light Yagami, or do you prefer Kira?”

Light deliberated on that, and Harry noticed just how much more brutally beautiful he looked with that cruel gleam in his eye, his features sharper and harder as if he was made of diamond. “Kira will do. May I have my pieces of the Death Note now?”

“Oh, no, not yet, Kira. First, let me detail the conditions of our alliance.”

The teenager looked exceedingly amused, leaning back in his straight-backed chair. “Conditions? You never mentioned any conditions during your pitch. If you keep springing surprises on me, Lord Voldemort, I will be forced to assume you do not have my best interests at heart.”

Voldemort raised his nonexistent eyebrows. “I take it you do not appreciate my obliviation of your non-Kira self.”

“No, I do not. In case you haven’t noticed, the loss and retrieval of memories is a painful process. However, since you rearranged my priorities, and rightly so, I shall forgive it.”

That did not strike the Lord’s fancy. His eyes narrowed as he looked down on the brunet. “Arrogance. You seem to think you can speak with me as you would an equal.”

The teenager, to Harry’s surprise, gave the Lord a cocky smile, tilting his head casually. “And that is because that’s what we are, equals. Equals in our alliance. Without me, you have a malfunctioning Elder wand and no Death Note. With me, you have the unlimited power of Gryffindor’s sword. I’d say you can deal with a little arrogance in exchange for my cooperation, rather than torture me and render me incapable of helping you. You cannot use an Imperio on me and give me powers at the same time, the Death Note leaves me immune. You need me.”

The Lord was displeased, but at the same time, there was...admiration. Harry realised that Voldemort was seeing a kindred spirit in Kira. He was seeing a younger version of himself. It made Harry sick, was Light really Tom Riddle?

“I agree, Kira. We are equals in power. However, I am your overlord, and the overlord of the Wizarding realm. If you do not accept this, I shall be forced to have you killed.”

Light chuckled maliciously, but waved a hand, caving. “I can accept that. Hubris was my downfall last time, I’m sure I can take being second in command.”

Voldemort hissed as he licked his upper lip. “I will not trust you, Kira. You will be under constant guard, and your piece of the Death Note shall be in the possession of a Death Eater at all times. You shall perform missions for me, in my stead, and be given the respect that would be accorded to me, but you will be kept under constant watch.”

The boy smirked. “Practical of you. What’s next, then? Planning to check out my powers? Elaborate on the missions? Can’t wait to get started.”

Voldemort’s face was impassive, but inside, he was _delighted_. It made Harry’s scar burn and sting. He gasped as images flowed through him again. Victory, Kira at his side, a true Elder wand to his malfunctioning own, a castle, Hogwarts, standing proudly against a stormy horizon. Hogwarts, there was something in Hogwarts. That was going to be Light’s mission, he was going to be sent to Hogwarts to guard something valuable. The most powerful wizard in all of the Wizarding world, being sent to guard something.

And then…he could see Light looking straight at him, straight at _him_ , not Voldemort, and Harry remembered the teenager asking him about his visions over the table at Shell Cottage, right after Voldemort picked up the Elder wand. Light was looking at _him_ with those hard diamond eyes, caramel irises tinged red, a tight smile twisting his soft mouth, as if he knew Harry was there, as if…as if it was all going according to plan.

Kira looked away, casually flicking his fringe out of his eyes and giving Voldemort a coy look. “Well? What’s my mission?”

Harry felt himself wrenched out of the conversation, out of Voldemort’s mind as the Dark wizard began to communicate telepathically with the brunet, whose face grew frighteningly sober, almost cruel.

Harry blinked, and he was on the floor of the motel with Hermione leaning over him, applying essence of dittany to his chin. “You fell over and cut yourself, Harry.” She informed him as she gave him a disapproving look. “Were you-”

“Tell me what you saw.” L shot out, squatting in front of him, his black eyes wide as he leaned in to get as close to Harry as he could. “Potter. Tell me what you saw. Did you see Light?”

Harry swallowed, reaching over for his glasses and straightening them on his nose. “Kira. He…he prefers Kira.”

L’s lip curled. “I don’t give a damn about his preferences. Do you know his location?”

Harry truly considered telling him about how Light knew he was in Voldemort’s head, how there had been an idea, a plan brewing in his eyes. He was plotting something, scheming. But it was all speculation, and the detective was so frustrated, those grey-black eyes narrowing as Harry failed to answer him immediately.

“I…I…Hogwarts. The Horcrux. It’s at Hogwarts.”

Hermione broke into a grin. “Brilliant. We just have to get there-”

Harry gulped. His stomach was in knots. “It’s at Hogwarts…but he’s sending Light to guard it. Kira. He’s sending Kira to guard it and…and kill us when we try to take it. It’s a trap, he wants us to come. Kira is more powerful than anyone, and he has the Elder wand too. He wants to display our bodies to the Wizarding world and prove…prove how he will wipe the dissenters from his realm with…with Kira’s help. It’s how he’s solidifying the alliance.”

The room was silent.

Ron began to chuckle hysterically in the corner. “It’s all over. All is lost. It’s not like we would have gotten to kill the damn snake anyway, but now we can’t even take out the fifth one. We should leave the country. There’s nothing we can do.”

Hermione gave him a disgusted look. “I’m not fleeing. I’m a Gryffindor. I’ll see this through till the end.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. It’s hopeless, but I’m not leaving either.”

Ron shrugged. “Well…I’m not abandoning you guys again, so.”

All three of them looked at L, who was fuming, his dark eyes bright in the dim lighting.

“Fuck you.” L spat out. “Fuck you all. Gryffindors my arse. I’m no Gryffindor. I’m not risking my life for your arses.”

The three of them exchanged glances. Hermione cleared her throat. “L. We understand if you don’t want to come. This is very painful for you. Maybe you can stay in Shell Cottage-”

He gave her a glare vicious enough to melt steel. “I’m not risking my life for you. I’m risking it for Light. I will bring him back if it’s the last thing I do, and it probably will be. Kira will kill me, and he will keep it forever in his conscience, but he knows very well that I will die before I see Kira win.”

There was another, more uncomfortable silence.

Hermione broke it, wringing her hands nervously together. “Well, then, I guess we should get ready. Can…can we all fit under the cloak? I mean, Hogsmeade will be packed with Death Eaters…”

L cut in. “Hogsmeade? You mean that street outside Hogwarts?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What kind of a plan is that? How the hell are we going to enter the castle from all the way out there?”

Hermione frowned. “Well, we can’t apparate anywhere else, can we?”

Harry made a strangled sound. “They’ve put a spell on the streets of Hogsmeade. If we appear there, a Caterwauling charm will activate.”

Hermione looked incredulous. “Great! This is fantastic! How else will we get into the castle, then?”

L sighed. “I suppose we shall have to go full circle, then.”

“Full circle?”

L looked away from them. “Hagrid’s Hut. The first place Light and I visited in this godforsaken world. We should never have gone there, maybe everything would have been solved if we had just never found Neville Longbottom and joined with this useless shithole of an Order. Perhaps, if we had been allied with the Dark Lord from the start…”

Ron squawked indignantly. “You traitorous git!”

Hermione put a hand on L’s shoulder. “I know you’re grieving, L, but-”

“I know.” L sighed. “I know. The Dark Lord would have stolen Light from me anyway. It was just a matter of time. We should never have come here. We should never have come to this world. It’s…it’s all Light’s fault. It was his idea. If I had known all he wanted to do was hide the notebook somewhere I couldn’t find it…I would have made arrangements. I have connections, I would have done that for him, if only he had asked, if only he had confided in me.”

He was close to tears. The world’s greatest detective, the stoic unmovable L was close to tears, his eyes gleaming in the light.

“I suppose it cannot be helped.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, they were mirrors, soulless. “Come now, Hermione Granger. Let’s prepare for war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised how much I love L. Poor dude, puts up with so much :(
> 
> Happy mother's day by the way! (Or whatever it is depending on your time zone XD)
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	31. Stupefy

To think Neville Longbottom had thought managing Dumbledore’s Army had been tough.

Months after the DA had informally disbanded, after Ginny had been taken out of school by her mother and Luna had disappeared with a band of Death Eaters, Neville Longbottom was running for his life from  the Carrows.

“Stupefy! _Stupefy!_ Ah, goddamn it, get out of the way! _Stupefy!_ ” He yelled as he hurtled down the halls, chased like prey in the forest, his predator(s) close on his heels. The Carrow twins, Alecto and Amycus Carrow, were the Death Eaters in charge of discipline and teaching the impressionable young wizards of Hogwarts Dark Arts and Anti-Muggle Studies, and right now, they were not very pleased with Neville. Implying that the pureblood fanatics running the school had mudblood ancestry wasn’t exactly the most practical thing to do, he supposed, but what was he supposed  to do when the assholes started degrading Harry Potter to his face?

“Stupefy! Shit, I should work on my aim, fucking _Stupefy!_ ” He threw the green spells over his shoulder as he ran at full speed through the corridors, ducking through corners and avoiding the Crucio’s being flung at him with remarkable dexterity. It was lucky it was in between classes, this chase, or else he would have been caught for sure. Filch, for one, would be thirsting for his blood, and the student body would be hard to hide in when they parted like the red sea every time a Carrow popped up around them.

It looked like he had lost them for the time being. Neville sprinted across the corridors, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute, looking back over his shoulder to see if they had caught on to his shortcut yet-

“Oof!”

He barrelled straight into a tall figure dressed in dark velvet robes, knocking him over onto the ground and falling right on top of him. He struggled to get to his feet, glancing over his shoulder before he looked back at the fallen stranger, his hand held out to help him up-

_No._

The blood froze in Neville’s veins as he took in the white mask covering the man’s face, designed with snake-eye slits and elaborately decorated, the dark hood of his robe over his hair, the anonymity of a Death Eater. He shivered as he backed away, drawing his wand. The Death Eater groaned as he propped himself up on his elbows, sitting up and pausing, appearing to be staring at him.

Oh, he wished he could apparate right now. His legs were jelly. He hadn’t seen a Death Eater in full costume before…well, not in ages, anyway. In Hogwarts, they usually came unmasked, with their intentions fully clear. After all, the Dark Lord had no reason to be visiting a crummy old school, did he?

Oh, Lord Almighty, if a Death Eater was around here, that meant Voldemort had business here. That meant he might _be_ here, and what if the Carrows decided to tell the Dark Lord about Neville’s transgressions? He could end up a meaningless sacrifice, a martyr. Yes, he knew there were worse things to be, but he was only seventeen! He didn’t want to die a martyr. Not unless they were going to war! If they were actively fighting, at least he could say he participated in the war effort!

Neville had just been preparing to run for his life (again) when the Death Eater let out a faint chuckle. Nimbly, the fallen man raised a slender hand (too slender for the dense robes) and pushed up his mask.

“Neville Longbottom?”

He felt as if he had been dunked in ice water. Was this why he hadn’t heard from Lupin since the day McGonagall had asked him to fetch the strangers from Hagrid’s Hut? And Fleur and Bill? Oh Lord, if he had been part in getting those two killed so soon after their wedding…

“…Light?”

The boy let out a charming laugh. “Hello again, Mr. Longbottom.”

Neville raised his wand in a shaking hand. “D-Death Eater?”

Light shrugged, his expression cool and vacant. “I assumed this school was okay with Death Eaters visiting?”

Neville shuddered. “But you…you saved me. In the forest, you tried to help me.”

The boy gave him a wide grin, getting to his feet. “It’s called _gaining your trust_. Now, if you don’t mind, could you point me in the direction of the Room of Requirement? My escort had some urgent business in his office and I’m tired of waiting.”

Neville shook his head jerkily. “N-no. If you were undercover, you...would have had enough to arrest me. Why didn’t you arrest me? You weren’t…”

Light cocked an eyebrow, impressed. “Seems you’re capable of rational thought after all, Mr. Longbottom. Congratulations. No, I wasn’t undercover back then. I’m just messing with you. I’m a recent convert. Now, if you don’t mind, Room of Requirement?”

Neville was frozen, terrified, and to make matters worse, the golden galleon in his pocket, the coin the members of the DA used to communicate, was growing hotter and hotter, indicating a new message appearing on it.

Light started to chuckle again, but it wasn’t friendly this time. It was almost dangerous, as if Neville was testing the boy’s patience. “Would you like me to pull my mask down, then? Feel better about obeying me if I look authoritarian?” He slipped the mask back down over his face. “There, now will you show me where the goddamn Room of Requirement is?”

Neville glared. “I…I don’t know. It appears when you have a need. It’s not going to appear…appear for Death Eater scum, that’s for sure.”

That provoked an empty laugh. Ha ha ha. “Trust Hogwarts to make everything difficult. Fine, tell me where Snape’s office is. I’ll go have a word with him.”

Neville growled. “I’m not showing you anything, traitor. How many Order members have you sold out because I showed you kindness, huh? How many? How many lives have you destroyed?”

Light sighed. “Oh well. I suppose I’ll just ask those people coming behind you.”

Neville whipped around, alarmed. The Carrows were sprinting down the corridor, wands held up before they realised who was behind the Gryffindor. They immediately halted, dropping their wands to their sides, eyes wide.

“Are you…Kira?”

Light chuckled, pleased. “Looks like my reputation precedes me.”

Both of them dropped to deep bows. “We have been instructed to help you with anything you may require. The Dark Lord instructed us himself. We…we thank you for this opportunity.” Alecto looked up, squinting. “ _Longbottom!_ You little swine-”

“Oh, leave him alone.” Kira said generously, patting the pudgy boy on the back. The Gryffindor recoiled, giving him a repulsed glance. “Whatever he’s done, he’s a pureblood from a great house, and he did show me kindness a long time ago. Let him be. Could you show me where the Room of Requirement is?”

The two of them hurried in front of him. “Right away. We shall summon it for you immediately. Do…do you know exactly what you require?”

“Yeah. A, um, hiding place. For trivial items.”

The Carrows bowed quickly. “Immediately, sir.” Light laughed as he watched them scurry away. He turned to Longbottom, who was still shivering with anger, his hands in fists around his wand.

Light raised his mask up, revealing his traitorous smirk. Neville would have decked him right there, if it hadn’t been for the cheeky wink the brunet gave him. “Was that convincing, or do I have to work on the dickishness a bit more? The Death Eaters are big time assholes, even _I_ can’t match up.”

Longbottom blinked, lost.

Light gave him a toothy grin, elbowing his arm gently. “Well, I’ll see you around, Longbottom. Nice meeting you again.”

“Um…”

Light pulled down his mask, whistling cheerily as he sauntered down in the direction the Carrows had scampered off in. Neville stared after him a bit longer, gathering up his wits and sticking his hand in his pocket, withdrawing the DA’s galleon.

“Harry Potter. _Harry Potter!_ …shit. Oh, thank God the Carrows hadn’t gotten me. Shit.” He muttered, shoving the coin back in his pocket before hurrying to get to the back entrance into the field. It was almost time for the Dark Mark to appear, and nobody was outside their classes after the Dark Mark appeared, nobody wanted to be caught for missing early curfew.

_Curfew_. Neville grinned. He was seriously thinking about curfew when Harry Potter waited for him with Ginny and Luna in Hagrid’s Hut?

They were all back, and a plot was brewing.

It was time, wasn’t it? The war was beginning.

Grinning, finally grinning after months and months of sober silence, Neville Longbottom raced down the fields towards the gameskeeper’s cottage, as, with a whooshing puff, the Dark Mark exploded in the sky behind him, lighting up the castle in festive green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what? It's the two month anniversary since I posted the first chapter! Yay! (I only found out about this because the date of publication thing has a glitch. Whatever). Oh, wait, time zones again. Forget I said anything XD
> 
> Light's such a manipulative shit XD and Neville is such a bloody sweetheart :D I didn't love him enough when I was reading HP but he's adorable!
> 
> Review and comment :D


	32. Dobby

The plan was set, and all the pieces were moving exactly as they had to.

Just as L had predicted, the man Harry talked to through his shard of glass was not Dumbledore’s eye, but his brother, Aberforth’s. It was the only conclusion which made sense, with the only alternative being a portrait of Dumbledore communicating…which, really, what were the odds of that?

After communicating with him through the glass, Dumbledore’s brother was able to fetch the house-elf, Dobby, from his position spying on the Malfoys for the Order, and the elf was glad to help them out with their plan. Unfortunately, though, the appearance of Dobby resulted in the appearance of Ginny Weasley as well (she had apparently been staying with Aberforth for a while now), and apart from a couple of warm welcomings courtesy of Ron and Hermione (Harry didn’t seem nearly as pleased, though L noticed him checking her out when she wasn’t looking), L didn’t see what purpose she could serve.

Ginny, however, had several radical ideas, some of which L did approve of, though Harry was getting quite pissed at her for participating at all (was this male ego or an intense desire to protect her? L didn’t think Ginny appreciated his concern). “Let’s call in Dumbledore’s Army! They’ve been waiting a while to help us! Let’s call Luna and Tonks and everybody!”

L frowned. “Isn’t Tonks pregnant?” _Cake in the oven_ came to mind, which made him cringe until he was overwhelmed with that deep misery he was growing all too familiar with. Light had laughed when she said it, calling him predictable as he gave him that affectionate little hug…

“Oh, no! She gave birth a couple weeks ago. Sweet baby boy, he’s called Teddy and he’s the most darling thing-”

L rolled his eyes. “I am sorry I asked. Well, Miss Weasley, I approve of your plan. You and your Dumbledore’s Army may participate in our effort. I believe there are certain teachers who sympathise with our cause? And the headmaster does not?”

Everyone in the Hut grew tense. Ginny spat. “Yeah, Snape doesn’t support us, not by a long shot. We going to get to kill him? I won’t mind. I know some wicked jinxes.”

Harry cracked a smile, finally. “Yeah, I can testify to that.”

L shook his head. “I don’t think we should kill anybody yet, though everybody keep the Killing curse in the forefront of your minds. I do not want any loss of life if we can help it. If you are captured, Obliviate yourselves. This is a top secret mission.”

Hermione raised  a tentative hand. “Um…I don’t think Obliviation is a good idea…”

L gave her a disdaining look. “Well, whatever it is. I do not want anybody speaking under torture. None of you know who I am, and what we are about to do, but the Golden Trio here will be in a bust if you talk and reveal their locations.”

Ginny stood up straight and proud. “Yeah, we’ve been under torture before. Nobody has revealed a single clue about the DA before, and we’re not starting now.”

L nodded. “Perfect. Then you will provide the distraction, and involve all those you trust as Dobby searches for our target. Once he has found the target, he will not engage with the target. Is that clear, Dobby? Your target is extremely dangerous and _extremely_ volatile. He will not hesitate to kill you on the spot. You will find the target’s location and report back to us. You will then apparate us to said location using your house-elf liberties if we deem it safe to do so.”

The small house-elf gave L a perky salute. “Anything for Harry Potter’s friends! Dobby is a free elf, and he is glad to be helping Harry Potter!” He said in his squeaky door-hinge voice. L was pleased with the enthusiasm.

“Miss Granger? Is the object you were transfiguring ready?”

Hermione grinned. “Yep! All done. It’s perfect, tested and set.”

“Miss Weasley? Have you summoned your friends?”

With a pop, Luna Lovegood apparated beside L. The detective brushed off his shoulder, peeved. “Miss Weasley, do not make your friends appear here. You are to assemble within Hogwarts, and provide a distraction within the castle for all the disciplinarians and on-site Death Eaters, as well as the headmaster.”

Ginny nodded sharply, her red hair flying. “Yep! Nobody else is apparating, don’t worry. Everyone in the DA is inside. Come on, Luna.” She marched outside, taking the wispy blond girl by the arm. L watched as she left, catching one of her friends on his way to the Hut. “No, Neville, we’ve got to head back to the castle.” He heard her say as they headed away.

“Are all the pieces set, then?” L inquired. Hermione shrugged, smiling. “Everything seems pretty ready to me.”

“Alright, then. Good luck, everybody.” L gave them a cursory glance, before turning to the House Elf who, he noticed, was wearing the shiniest shoes he had ever seen on anybody. “Dobby, you may now begin your segment of the plan.”

“Right away, sir!” Dobby jumped up and disappeared with the snap of his fingers.

L took a deep breath. He was making his moves, yes, but Kira was his rival. They played chess _together_. He wondered briefly what moves his nemesis was making as he formulated this plan. L’s plan was simple, as simple as L liked to keep them, but Kira’s plans were always convoluted, strange, unpredictable.

The detective sighed, turning to his teammates. “Here we go.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The frail house-elf apparated back just outside the hut, scattering a flock of silver birds pecking idly at the ground. He was exhausted, his tiny body soaked in sweat as he took in heaving breaths. Harry, Ron and Hermione rushed out to pick him up and bring him back into the hut, while L waited patiently near the doorway, crouched in his thinking position, running over every aspect of the plan. It wasn’t fool-proof, but then there was no way he could make it be. He didn’t have any of the technological resources he would have had back home, and magic was hardly compensating for it with all its limitations.

“Dobby, are you alright?” Harry asked, sloshing the eternally filled water-jug in the corner as he brought it over to the elf for a drink (oh, the memories. L gritted his teeth, refusing to allow himself to feel the edge of the grief. Anger was a much more productive emotion). Dobby took a grateful sip and bobbled his overlarge head.

“Dobby is fine! Dobby thanks Harry Potter for his concern!”

L crossed his arms over his knees. “Did you find the target, Dobby?”

Dobby nodded enthusiastically. “Dobby had to search the entire castle! Dobby apparated everywhere! Dobby finally found the target after ten minutes with the help of Neville Longbottom! He is in the Room of Requirement! Dobby can summon the Room of Requirement anywhere in the castle, he can apparate you to it right now!”

L held up a hand. “Wait. What is he doing in this room?”

Dobby thought for a minute. “Well, Dobby must say, he is not doing much. Oh, oh, yes, he is talking to Master Malfoy! They appeared to be having an argument!”

L grimaced. “So he is not alone then. I didn’t expect him to be, but…”

“Oh, no, apart from that Master Malfoy he is alone. The two of them are sitting around in the Room of Requirement. They appeared to be waiting for somebody. They were arguing about being prepared, I think.”

L sighed. Yes, of course Kira had a plan. “Do you remember the exact details of this argument, Dobby?”

Dobby nodded profusely. “Yes, Dobby thought it would be important so he hid in the corner and listened in!”

Ron guffawed. “Oh, Dobby, you’re such a sneaky git.”

Dobby blinked up at the redhead. “Sneaky? _Sneaky?_ Dobby was simply helping…!”

“Ron, don’t bully him.” Hermione sniffed. “Go on, Dobby, tell us what you heard.”

“Dobby heard that Master Malfoy was keeping something that he wanted very badly. So he kept telling him to give it back for protection, because they could need to spring to action at any time. However, Master Malfoy refused and told him that if he was going to insist in this way, he will report it to the Dark Lord. Master Malfoy called the target Lord Kira. Dobby hopes that the target is not another man calling himself a Lord. Dobby does not see any good person calling themselves a Lord lately.”

L looked at Hermione, feeling a hopeful bubble in his chest. “We already knew that they have discovered the Death Note pieces…but they don’t trust Kira, so they aren’t giving it freely to him yet. That means…”

Hermione beamed. “That means we have a much better chance of getting the Horcrux now.”

Ron slung his arm around Harry’s shoulder in a comradely way. “So, sneak attack, then.”

L, despite all of his grievances against the redhead, gave him a mild nod. “Dobby, tell us the scheme of this Room of Requirement. Harry, Hermione, remember your parts. Ron, with me.”

The occupants of the hut nodded, and an excited grin was growing on Hermione’s face.

“The plan is on.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Kira twirled the plain white wood of his wand around in his fingers, thoroughly dissatisfied with how things were going.

The Dark Lord had mentioned giving him the Elder wand. Even if he wasn’t the master, he was sure to make better use of it than that skeletal geezer (according to Kira’s calculations, the Chief Death Eater was seventy one years old, fifty-two years older than him, and that was as old as his _grandfather_ ). But then, of course, Lord Voldemort had remembered that he didn’t trust Kira yet, and said that putting both of his greatest weapons in the same room wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t want to keep all his eggs in one basket, you see.

Perhaps that was why the teenager was yet to see the infamous snake Horcrux Harry had mentioned back at camp. Nagini, wasn’t it? He had been looking forward to seeing it, he did like snakes.

This damn Death Eater Snape had assigned him, Draco Malfoy, the idiot he had petrified back at Malfoy manor, wasn’t cooperating with Kira at all. It was sickening, how he flinched whenever the brunet looked in his direction, how he kept his wand ready at all times.

In the beginning, when they had only just settled in this boring hovel of Requirement, perched on the same two seats they were in now, Kira had wondered why the white-blond boy was so wary. After all, they were both on the same side, weren’t they? It took a while before he remembered that he had murdered his aunt right in front of his petrified face.

Lovely. He liked that. It made him feel powerful.

Kira smirked as he peeked behind the nearest bookshelf, his eyes shining with amusement.

“Mr. Malfoy, the Horcrux hunters will strike at any moment. We have to make some preparations.”

Malfoy sneered. “I’m not giving you your notepaper, _Lord_ Kira, so don’t even try.”

Making a mockery of Voldemort’s official title for him, eh? “We should check on the Horcrux, make sure it’s hidden somewhere safe. They know it’s here, Potter can see into the Dark Lord’s mind.”

Draco gave him a dismissive look, but Kira could just _see_ the terror behind it. “They gave me one job, to keep the notepaper away from you until a crisis happens. I don’t make a habit of failing at my jobs. Right now, Kira, you’re a muggle with no powers whatsoever, they’ve _told_ me that, so don’t even think you have any leverage over me.”

Kira sighed, holding his plain wand in front of him and examining it closely. “Oh well. I guess I’ll stay powerless, then. Let the Room of Requirement stay unguarded, defenceless against the evils of Potter and his gang. Let Draco Malfoy fail at his _real_ job, to keep a guard over the fifth Horcrux.”

Draco was visibly sweating. “Look here, if Potter appears I’ll give you your piece, alright? Don’t sabotage this and blame it on me.”

Kira glanced at the house-elf, which disappeared promptly from behind the bookshelf, and gave Draco a sinister smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy, ultra-early update! This is kind of to make up for the vacation I'll be going on after the next update, so you'll all get a three-day break from my uploads XD
> 
> Though, I mean, the next chapter is my absolute complete best favourite so I'm sure that's a plus XD
> 
> Review and comment :D


	33. Vulnera Sanentur

Once everything was ready, L braced himself, put his hand on the house-elf’s head and squeezed his eyes shut. Ron put his hand over his, and he could hear the redhead’s heavy breathing. Unworthy or not, L was glad there was one person who somewhat understood his situation. This wasn’t easy…and yet it was going to be so satisfying.

_Kira, your move._

There was a whistling of air in his ears. L bit his lip as the world whisked away from him and they popped into existence behind a dilapidated bookshelf in a huge, stuffy room of antiques, the smell of old books hitting L as soon as he was able to catch his breath again. He looked around at his team. Harry and Hermione gave him sharp nods, rushing off to make themselves scarce, looking for the Horcrux while Ron and L dealt with the threat at hand.

L could hear him now, even now, that familiar, smooth-as-silk voice, tinged with the slightest amount of derision as he goaded his companion. “So you _have_ failed a job, then, haven’t you? If you didn’t kill Dumbledore, you failed.”

Ron turned a deep shade of scarlet as a low sneering voice piped up. “I did my job. I got him killed. It doesn’t matter who did the actual killing.”

“Your job was to murder him. Did you murder him, Mr. Malfoy?” There was that charming laugh, the one that put everyone at ease before he bit into their throats and sucked out their blood. L’s fists shook as he swallowed his disgust. They sounded exactly the same, Kira and his Light.

Beside him, Ron jerked his head. “I can take Malfoy, that bloody git.”

L inclined his head. “I was always going to take Kira.” Noticing the faint sheen of sweat over Ron’s face, L took pity on him (of course he didn’t feel nervous too, what a ridiculous thought). “On three?”

Ron gulped. “Yes.”

“Okay. One, two-”

“Is there somebody _there_ over there?” Draco exclaimed. “What the _fuck?_ ”

Ron was gone in a flash, and L followed close behind. “Stupefy!” The redhead shouted, and Draco Malfoy fell in a heap of black robes and white-blond hair on the ground.

Kira stood up gracefully from his perch on the straight-backed wooden chair, his trademark smirk on his lips. “So you’re finally here. Took you long enough-”

There was a jarring bang as the weapon in L’s hands fired, the recoil barely fazing him as he relished in Kira’s stunned expression. Finally, that smirk was gone, replaced by an almost empty expression, wide eyes and face white as a sheet.

The boy looked down at his hand, the hand that had been holding his plain white wand, and shrieked.

“Ron. Go.” L ordered urgently as he strode forward, his gun straight, aiming straight at Kira’s head. The boy was still shrieking, clutching his arm and blubbering incoherently at L, who grabbed him by the upper arm and forced him down. “On your knees, Kira.”

Kira jerked away, stumbling back, holding his heavily bleeding hand tightly against his chest. His breaths were short and rapid, his cheeks drained of colour. “Idiot! You _idiot!_ What are you _doing?”_

“Get on your knees, Kira, or I will be forced to shoot you again. On your knees!”

Kira fell to his knees, his brown eyes wide as dinner plates. “You…you _shot_ me! You…you…”

“Put your hands out.”

Kira gaped in horror with that achingly familiar face, sparking the rage in him. “L, _what-”_

“It is of none of your concern what I am doing, _put your hands out!”_ L grabbed the boy by the wrist, prompting another dreadful cry.

“Don’t! _Don’t,_ I can’t move it, my fingers!” Kira screamed in agony, pulling back in a panic, but L was merciless, yanking the hand out and placing it on the boy’s thigh. Kira flinched, a sheen of sweat appearing on his forehead.

L pointed his gun decisively at Kira’s forehead, much to the monster’s terrified disbelief. “L, no, wait! Don’t! _I’m not Kira, L!_ Stop! It was a _ruse!_ It was a ruse to-”

L pushed the gun harder against him, tilting the boy’s head back as the barrel dug into his skin. “Say one more word.”

Kira’s amber eyes glimmered with tears as he began to sob. “L…don’t, I swear, I’m not Kira, I thought you’d see through it. L, don’t…don’t…”

L gritted his teeth as Ron came over, holding the piece of the Death Note he had extracted from Malfoy’s robe in a torn piece of cloth, Light’s wand in his other hand. “I found it. What do I-”

L felt the wind knocked out of him as a hard fist pounded him in the stomach, throwing him back against the ground. Something was whipped out of the belt-loops of his jeans, and he felt himself flying in the air, hitting his head on the side of a bookshelf and seeing stars. He heard Ron crying out a _Stupefy_ , but predictably, there was a crash as Ron went flying as well.

_“Incarcerous!”_ The formerly smooth voice yelled furiously, and L struggled against the ropes that conjured themselves around him, pinning his arms to his sides.

He heard footsteps running in their direction, Harry and Hermione, _oh God no_ , they should find the Horcrux or get away. “Stupefy!” He heard Hermione shout, but to no avail. If Kira could perform magic, he was immune to it. He should never have assumed they were safe just because Draco had a piece of the Note and Kira’s wand was undecorated with his usual glowing vines. A simple Concealment charm, Ron had taught those in Shell Cottage, that was all that he needed.

A piece of the Death Note hidden in his robes, just as it had been in the helicopter when Kira killed Higuchi to reclaim the notebook. L began to chuckle bitterly as Harry and Hermione fell in their places in matching bonds. It seemed that even if Kira repeated his tricks, L fell for them.

All his enemies fallen, L expected a triumphant, glorious laugh, the kind Kira was famous for, tipping his head back and letting it all out, but what he got was a whimper and a shuffle. L raised his head, wriggling in his ropes as he tried to catch a glimpse of the serial killer.

Light (no, Kira) had collapsed on the ground, his bleeding hand clutched tightly in his other hand, blood smeared all over his black robes. L had a brief what-the-fuck moment where he appreciated Light (Kira, _Kira)_ in black. His skin looked so much paler, it complemented his deep auburn hair, his gentle pink flush. He looked strikingly attractive. He held up L’s walnut wand, curling with silver tendrils, and tapped his wound with a trembling grip. “V-vulnera Sanentur.”

The blood began to wash away from it, and Light winced, holding the hand away from as the wound knitted together. He looked up at L in undisguised horror. “M-my finger. You shot off my finger.”

And L realised that he had. The boy’s little finger was missing.

“Oh, god, oh, god, I-I don’t know any charms…t-the pain is going to be horrible…w-when the s-shock is gone…it-it already hurts like…like…” The boy suddenly turned sharply in the direction of Draco Malfoy, who was pressing his fingers hard against the skin of his wrist. Light’s eyes widened in panic.

“Shit! Shit! _Petrificus Totalus!”_

A jet of white light and Draco was lying motionless on the ground, his eyes popping and mouth wide open, startled.

“H-he called the Dark Lord! He’ll be h-here, he’ll alert the D-Death Eaters!” He let out a shuddering breath, turning his large eyes to Harry. “W-what is the Horcrux? I’ll s-summon it, tell me what it is. I t-tried summoning _Horcrux_ b-but it doesn’t w-work.”

Harry was gaping at him, turning his conflicted gaze on L. L shook his head.

“Do not cooperate with him, he has an ulterior motive to this.”

“D-damn it, L, _this isn’t the time!”_ Light yelled. He turned to the door to the Room of Requirement. “Colloportus!” The door obediently locked itself.

He whipped back to face L, his wand brandished tightly in front of him in his good hand. “He’s coming, you f-fucking imbecile! He’s coming, and he’s _powerful!_ He’s nearly as powerful as I am, and he has an a-army! He has the Elder wand! I t-tried to take it from him, but he wouldn’t give it to me. He’s going to k-kill us! _Kill us,_ L, do you understand me?”

L raised his chin, refusing to fall for the man’s tricks. “I know you well. I know how skilled an actor you are. You don’t have to prove it again, it’s not going to work.”

Light shivered, gripping his injured hand, blinking away tears. “W-what, you don’t believe me? He has a Dark Mark-”

“I believe that the Dark Lord is coming, yes. However, I don’t believe you are trying to help us, Kira. I am not a fool.”

Incensed, Light spread his hands out, his flush deepening. “I’m not Kira! Goddamn it, L. If I was Kira, I would have killed you by now!”

L shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t have. You want the Horcrux, for whatever reason. Leverage against the Dark Lord, maybe. You need us to find the Horcrux, you won’t kill us until you get it.”

Light stared at him, and his lower lip trembled, ready to break into another sob of frustration. “You’re rationalising. You don’t really believe what you’re saying. I’m not Kira, I’m _Light_. Light Yagami, your _friend_. What can I do to make you believe me?”

L was feeling weak. It hurt, hearing Light’s voice coming from this monster. It hurt to hear him speak his name. “There is nothing you can do, Kira-kun. You might as well give up now.”

“L, please…I…” Light took in a breath. The brunet raised his ornate wand, squeezed his eyes shut and twirled it in a little circle, the way L had so many weeks ago in Shell Cottage, the way he had only last evening in that crummy motel room. _“Expecto Patronum.”_

Immediately, a flock of countless silvery birds flitted into the room, shimmering and gliding around on their outstretched wings. Three of them trilled, prompting three others to coo back, the birdsong making the room feel almost pleasant despite the grim atmosphere. After a merry circle of the Room of Requirement, all the birds settled at Light’s feet, and the boy sighed, finally opening his eyes.

“Finite Incantatem.”

One by one, every bird disappeared into the ether, popping away until there was only one tiny glowing magpie sitting alone on the floor, cocking its head curiously before fluttering up to L, resting on his bound wrists and pecking at him forlornly.

Light let out a whoosh of air that could have been an ironical chuckle. “I only did it successfully twice before. Once at Shell Cottage, when you were asleep, and once this morning. It used to be a fox or something, but when I sent it to Hagrid’s hut to wait for you, it was a magpie. I…I thought you’d be more likely to notice it if it was in a flock. Stupid of me.” He ducked his head. “I should have had it communicate, but I didn’t know how. I tried to give you as much as I could…with the house-elf, and…”

L was staring at the little bird, unable to comprehend it. A magpie, his Patronus was a magpie, the same as L’s. That book he had read, _a person’s Patronus can change only under certain circumstances._

 “Harry, we don’t have time. The Horcrux.” Light pleaded, his grip on his wrist tightening until his knuckles were white. It looked like the pain was catching up with him.

Harry’s jaw tightened. “It’s a tiara. Ravenclaw’s tiara.”

“Diadem.” Hermione corrected. “Ravenclaw didn’t own a tiara, she owned a diadem.”

“Okay.” Light breathed in, letting go of his wrist and steadying his wand. “Accio Ravenclaw’s Diadem.”

There was a delicate clanging somewhere in the depths of the Room of Requirement, and a small crown came spinning towards them at full speed. Light, being obviously preoccupied with his injury, failed to catch it, so it circled around his head and came to a gentle stop by his feet.

Light scooped it up. “Hermione, you have the sword?”

Hermione, who was white-faced and dazed, nodded slowly. “Yes, I have it in my bag.”

“Then you can…oh right.” Light chuckled emptily under his breath. “Sorry. _Emancipare_.”

The ropes around the four of them quickly uncoiled and vanished into thin air. Harry and Hermione jumped up to their feet, Hermione digging through her beaded bag for the sword. She withdrew it, the blade shining snow-white in the light, and fastened her bag back onto her belt.

Light handed her the diadem, shuffling over to his chair and sitting quietly down, cradling his hand in his lap, his head bowed, coppery hair covering his eyes. L stared at his silent form as Harry and Hermione focussed on destroying the Horcrux.

Before he could muster up the strength to go to him, though, Ron was bounding over, taking the seat beside Light and lifting his hand carefully in his. Light looked tiredly up at him as the redhead drew out a slender bottle from his jacket.

“Essence of dittany, Hermione made sure we all had some on us before we came here.” Ron gave the brunet a bashful grin. “It’ll help with the pain, and who knows? Maybe it’ll grow the finger back.”

“Thank you, Ron.” Light gritted out of clenched teeth as Ron uncorked the bottle and held the hand ready.

“This’ll sting a bit.”

Light cringed and tried to pull his hand away as Ron poured some dittany over the sore wound, but the redhead held it straight. “Don’t do that, it’ll help, I swear. And even if it doesn’t grow the finger back, we can always take you to St. Mungo’s when this is all over. They’ll fix you up straight, don’t worry.”

Light flexed his palm, pressed his lips together and glanced at Ron’s big blue eyes. Suddenly, Hermione stabbed the diadem and it burst into flames. The brunet flicked his wand distractedly at them. “Aguamenti.” A stream of water poured onto the dying diadem and somehow that tickled Light so terribly that he couldn’t stop laughing no matter how hard he tried.

“W-what’s funny, Light?” Ron asked reluctantly, wringing the bottle of dittany in his hands. Light wiped some tears of laughter from his eyes as he finally managed to suppress it.

“Sorry…I’m sorry. It’s just…this whole thing, it’s so ridiculous!” And with that he started laughing again. “We’re all about to die! The Dark Lord is going to kill us all and you’re talking about regrowing my finger in a magical hospital, a finger that my best friend shot off because he thought I was a crazy deceptive serial killer, and I managed to win you over by showing you a _magpie_ …except that was no reason to win you over! I _am_ Kira, I’ve always been Kira! That’s why the Obliviate didn’t work. He’s not an alternate personality in my head, he’s _me_. It’s all in my control. I just choose not to be him because I don’t _want_ to be.” He bowed his head, and the laughter sounded more like weeping.

“I am Kira, there’s no denying it. I’m the person you hate so much. I’m the one you shot. I’m the same as he is.”

He raised his head, but there were no tears, only a grotesque smile stretching his face.

“I’m the same as him.”

L opened his mouth, wanting, needing to say something to make this better, but no words came out. Light’s smile dropped, and, slowly so L could see every detail of the transformation, his face grew coldly serious.

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll go speak with Snape, and you can prepare for war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist! Haha! (See L? He warned you he was a wild card!)
> 
> Okay, so I won't be posting for three days now (that's a first!) so read at your leisure XD
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	34. Dark Mark

The minute Light whipped the door of the Room of Requirement open, he was face-to-face with Neville Longbottom once more.

The pasty boy was panting with exertion, sweat dripping off his brow, his wand clutched tightly in the arm that wasn’t badly burnt above the elbow. He paused, staring at Light with a neutral expression.

“Death Eater, or not Death Eater?” Neville managed to gasp out. “No jokes now, please, anarchy is happening.”

Behind him, Ron, Harry and Hermione rushed over. “Neville!”

“Oh, Harry, I knew you’d come! I knew it. Oh, God…I think I need some of that dittany.”

Ron glanced blankly at his bottle before snapping to his senses and handing it over. “Wow, Neville, you can recognise dittany on sight? I mean, I knew you were good at Herbology and all, but…”

Light sighed. “There’s a label, Ron.”

Ron turned red. “Oh. Right.”

Neville nearly shoved his way through into the Room, stopping just short of touching Light. “Let me guess…you were undercover, but for _our_ side.”

Light rolled his eyes. “Oh, damn, my cover is blown. Whatever shall I do.” He muttered sarcastically, elbowing past the pudgy boy and stalking off into the corridor. L, behind him, seemed to wake up.

“Wait, someone stop him! We don’t know where he’s going!”

Ron blinked. “Right, he mentioned Snape! That’s not a good sign. I’ll go keep an eye on him.”

L pushed his way past. “No, let me. I need to get some clarifications.” The detective moved faster than Ron had ever seen him move, his spine straight and fists tight by his side. The redhead felt a spike of irritation. L was the reason they had made that plan against Light in the first place! He was the reason they hadn’t trusted him, when he had been trustworthy the whole time. It made Ron feel like a total wanker, especially considering his claim that he would have given his life for the brunet.

He would have, though. He was ready to even now.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Ron looked back at Neville. “So, tell us what’s happening?”

Neville tore off his sleeve and poured some dittany onto his wounds, cringing. “So, we called the DA, right? That included Fred and George and a bunch of people who had left Hogwarts. Everyone turned up, with their families, and someone involved the Order of the Phoenix too so we have a legit army down there. They’re securing the castle. Apparently, one of the Death Eaters summoned the Dark Lord to Hogwarts, we found out through the Carrows, so they’re casting protective charms around the castle. McGonagall restrained Snape in his office. It’s only a matter of time before he gets out, but still. Anarchy, bloody anarchy out there. They’re getting ready for _war.”_

Hermione, to nobody’s surprise, threw her head back. “We get to face this, then. We get to fight him head on, and kill that bloody snake once and for all.”

Ron looked at her and saw _Hermione_ again, the fierce, formidable girl with her long brown hair and her eyes glinting with passion. He couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, we’re killing that bloody snake alright. We’re killing it hard.”

Harry seemed disturbed. “This is going to be tough. We’re outnumbered, and the Death Eaters are merciless…we’re an army of schoolchildren.”

Neville gave him a proud shake of the head as he tied his ripped sleeve over his healed wound. “Yeah, we’re an army of schoolchildren. We’re Dumbledore’s Army, and the DA’s never failed yet. You should have seen McGonagall, she was brilliant, locking Snape up with a trick and a Stupefy in his office. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill and Fleur, Tonks and Lupin, everyone’s here. We’re fighting _together_.”

“Besides,” Hermione interjected. “We have the Dark Lord at a disadvantage. We have the most powerful wizard in the world with us.” Seeing Harry’s doubtful look, she gave him a sheepish grin. “Alright, fine, he’s not with _him_ , at least.” She amended.

Ron shrugged. “He’ll come around eventually. He’s a good guy.”

“He’s a psychotic mass murderer.” Harry said forlornly. “And L shot him in the hand. His finger is probably lying somewhere in the Room of Requirement right now.”

Neville goggled. “Can someone catch me up on what’s going on?”

Ron patted the pudgy boy on the good shoulder. “It’s a long story, but it’s not important. Right now, let’s go kill some Death Eaters.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

L bounded past the several green-robed children pasted to the wall with some sticky substance that resembled honey but smelled like something foul and otherworldly, frantic in his race to catch up with Light.

The brunet had noticed him coming within seconds and ducked into a random hallway, losing him for a brief few minutes until the detective saw him strolling down the floor below. At that point, it was lucky L had magic (he had taken Light’s aspen wand, since the brunet had his), because all he needed was blast the floor with a hole wide enough for a slender twenty-something so he could shimmy down to the lower floor without hunting for the stairs.

Now, he was only a couple feet away, and Light hadn’t seemed to notice him yet, what with the chaos and people streaming around them in a bustle.

Finally, he was able to reach out and grab the boy by the flowing black sleeve, wrenching him back and shoving him against the wall, right beside a trapped Slytherin.

“Raito-kun, are you insane? You don’t go wandering off on your own in the middle of a war!” L hissed, much to the trepidation of the puny Slytherin stuck to the wall.

“Oh, so I’m Raito-kun now, am I? Fuck off, L.” Light elbowed him painfully in the gut and flounced off. L caught his breath as quickly as he could and sprinted off to catch up with him again.

“You can’t possibly blame me for that, Raito-kun. The dangers of Kira returning-”

“L.” Light gripped the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Did you not hear a word I said? I just admitted to you that I _am_ Kira. We’re the same person. He’s not an alternate personality.”

“Don’t you patronise me, Raito.” L said heatedly. “I heard you fine.”

“Then what is your problem? Kira isn’t returning, he’s already here!”

L strode forward and grabbed Light by the front of his robes. “I always knew that! Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I miss the fact that your lapses always come when you genuinely feel the way you’re saying? Do you think I don’t see you battling yourself every time you hold the notebook? Do you think I’m an _idiot_ , Raito?”

Light frowned deeply. “Well, if you always knew…?”

“I let you have the notebook because I trusted you anyway!” L bellowed in Light’s face. “I always knew it was a possibility you could just decide to adopt the values of Kira once more! I let my emotions cloud my logic because I trust you! I love you! I made stupid decisions, all because I love you, and my successors will _mock_ me if you kill me and they find out what I did with you, but I don’t care! I don’t care, because I would rather die than lose you. I’m a selfish bastard, because I don’t give a single shit about the world, or about Justice, no matter how much I may say it. It’s all just a game to me. The only thing I genuinely give a shit about is you.”

Light was silent, staring at him with those bewildered amber eyes, and L took a deep breath, trying his hardest to calm himself down.

 “So you see why it hurt so much when I thought Kira was back. With the Obliviate Harry talked about, and the memories of the Death Note returning…all you needed was a little push before you abandoned everything we had worked for and embraced the power of Kira. And I don’t know how many times I can turn you back, Raito, you are stubborn and I’m not entirely sure why you changed back from Kira in the first place. I thought…I thought I had lost you. I thought it was all over, and it made me so _angry_ …because I knew it was a possibility the whole time but I never…never thought…”

He finally looked back at Light, and saw that the boy looked sick. L dropped his hands, releasing him, but contrary to his expectations the brunet did not swish away. He stood stock-still where he was as the anarchy below them bubbled into a crescendo.

“L.” Raito lifted his honey-brown eyes. He was holding his now-healed wrist in his hand, running a finger over the flat scar that ran where his little finger used to be. “You know why I changed back.”

The detective felt the all-too-familiar ache in his chest. “I have my suspicions, but no, I do not know.”

Light let out a quiet humourless chuckle. “Some world’s greatest detective you are, then.”

Suddenly, the very air grew colder, mistier, and there were screams coming from the halls downstairs. Anything Light might have said next was drowned out as a hissing, screeching voice invaded their heads, snapping at them like a wild snake.

 _“I know that you are preparing to fight.”_ It declared, and Light clutched his ears, contorting miserably. L looped his arm around him, he knew who this was. _“I do not wish to destroy this castle. I have nothing but the utmost respect for the teachers at Hogwarts. Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave Hogwarts untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you shall all be rewarded.”_ A cold laugh, grotesque.

 _“And as for you, Kira.”_ The voice hissed mockingly _. “Return to me, or the consequences will be severe.”_

Light cried out in pain, yanking up the sleeve of his robe. To L’s horror, there was a curling black tattoo there, a grinning skull with a snake winding around it, slithering through its mouth and running down Light’s wrist. For a second, it glowed green, and Light screamed, covering it with his injured hand, growing pale as he stumbled back.

“Rip it out…I have to rip it out…”

L gaped in horror. “No, Light, don’t be stupid!”

Light turned his fearful gaze to him. “He’s trying to talk to me, L, I need to rip it out!”

“But that’s your skin!” L grabbed the boy’s wrist, pulling up the sleeve. “Give me your piece of the Death Note, Light, I’ll take care of this.”

Light hastily reached into his robe, withdrawing a crumpled piece of paper and handing it over. Immediately, the wand he had tucked in his belt, L’s walnut wand, lost all its sheen. “Here.”

L frowned as he thought. “What do you think about a Scourgify?”

“Fuck, L, that’s not going to work.” Light would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t shrinking away in agony. “Hermione…Hermione will know.”

L nodded. “Yes, we should go to her. Are you sure you’ll be alright waiting that long, though?”

This time, Light did manage to roll his eyes. “I’ve been through Crucio’s, torture machines and crossbow bolts. I think I can take this fucking mark.” He swallowed. “I think I’ll have to rip it out eventually, though.”

Without thinking twice, L grabbed his face and kissed him passionately, deep dark eyes boring into his honey-amber orbs, urgent and short-lived. “I love you, Raito. I missed you so much when you forced me to leave you. I’m so glad you’re back with me.”

“And you, L. I missed you too.” Light chuckled tightly. “Let’s go find her now.”

“Yes, let’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the Second Wizarding War has begun!
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	35. Tenebris Evanescet

The Room of Requirement was gone.

“What the fuck?” Light growled. “Why is this castle so damn inconvenient? The room was definitely on this floor, goddamn it.” L took Light’s hand and slipped up his sleeve, studying the raised skin under the Dark Mark worriedly.

“It hasn’t worsened, so it’s-”

“Death Eater!” Someone in the crowd hollered, and suddenly there were curses flung at them from far and wide. Quickly, L returned Light’s Death Note piece to him and stood protectively in front of him.

“Hey, arseholes, what are you still doing on this floor? The fighting’s downstairs!”

The student who had shouted, a young yellow-robed girl in long brown pigtails, pointed her wand at him. “He’s a Death Eater! You’re not welcome here! None of you are welcome here!”

“That’s right!” A gallant young man in a blue robe came forward. “You’re not welcome here, you bloody vampire!”

“Yes he is!” There was a faraway yell from behind them, and they both turned to see Neville barrelling towards him, huffing and panting, with a tall redheaded girl following him, her pale freckled face reminding Light distinctly of Ron. His sister, maybe? “He is bloody welcome here, fuck off, Corner!”

Corner blinked his indigo eyes at the new arrivals. “Neville? Ginny?”

“Get downstairs, Michael, make yourself useful.” Ginny gave him a scornful look, flipping her ginger hair over her shoulder. Neville panted heavily, his hands on his knees, wheezing desperately for a breath.

“Welcome, you are…hey Hannah.” He addressed the girl in the yellow robe, who still had her wand out and pointed at Light. Neville let out a croaking laugh. “No worries, Hannah, he’s not a Death Eater. Undercover for the Order.”

Light gave him a reluctant look. “Well…I guess you could say that.”

The girl in the yellow robe was hardly convinced. “He has a Dark Mark! Look!” Everyone looked down at Light’s exposed forearm, which, he realised, he had been scratching busily at ever since the conversation started.

L made an annoyed sound, batting the hand away and running his cool fingers over the sore skin. “We don’t have the time for this nonsense. Neville, do you know the charm to get rid of a Dark Mark? Any Vanishing charms, cleaning charms…?”

“Burning charms? Shall we try an Incendio?” Light suggested. L gave him a stern look.

“We’re not burning you, Light. We can do this peacefully. I get that it hurts, but you will have to control yourself.”

Neville shook his head anxiously. “A-as far as I know, Dark Marks are permanent. They couldn’t remove them after the First Wizarding War, that’s why so many Death Eaters got caught.”

Light took a deep, calming breath. “Alright. Ripping it off, then.”

“Why do you have to be so _violent_ , Raito-kun? Of course _Neville_ wouldn’t know. We have to find Hermione or perhaps even Harry.”

Neville blinked. “Hey…”

“Where’s Hermione, Longbottom?” L demanded. Ginny pursed her lips.

“They’re all downstairs. They said we have to keep a watch out for you two and send you downstairs when you turn up. They’re making a plan about how to kill Voldemort’s snake.”

Light winced. “Don’t say his name!”

Ginny shrugged. “What’s it matter? He knows where we are anyway.”

Neville gestured for them to follow. “Come on, we’ll take you where everyone is. The teachers are all outside, casting protections, and Professor Sprout is throwing mandrakes and planting the Devil’s snare, it’s wicked cool.” He glanced back at L and Light and his face fell. “Oh, right. You’re not from here.”

“No, we’re not.” L muttered as they went down the stairs two at a time and turned into a corridor on the ground floor, avoiding the throngs of people scattered around as they hurried from place to place, ducking through the dense crowd of children that appeared to be heading through some sort of a portal.

They shoved through this horde, muttering curses and excuse me’s. Light was right in the middle of the crowd when he felt a sharp jolt of pain split his head in two. He stopped, muffling his cry with his good hand as he ducked his head down, seeing spots.

Abruptly, there was an image in Light’s head, clear as day, an empty classroom dark and abandoned, one he recognised from near the stairwell. He turned, glancing at the dark room, and his eyes grew wide.

He spared a glimpse at L and the others, but they were still struggling through the crowd. They wouldn’t miss him for a second, he didn’t have the time to crawl up to one of them and inform them where he was. The man in the doorway obviously didn’t have much time to spare.

Light spun around and elbowed his way back out of the crowd, taking in a deep breath of fresh air once he had enough room to, sprinting towards the empty classroom. Halfway there, he heard L yell indignantly. “Where’s Raito-kun?” He didn’t have the time to respond, though. He didn’t want to bring attention to himself.

Swiftly, he slipped into the abandoned classroom and nudged the door partially shut before Severus Snape seized him by the front of his robe and pulled him into the corner, his bony hand jammed over the brunet’s mouth. “Silence. I cannot be discovered.”

Light nodded and Snape released him, grabbing his hand and wrenching his sleeve back. He tutted, whipping his wand out and running it over the Dark Mark. “This will send a message to him that someone is helping you, but that is not an issue since I will soon be dead.”

Light goggled at him. “What?”

Snape’s long face suddenly grew soft, its stern lines washing away as his dark eyes filled with melancholy. “It is inevitable. There is nothing I can or want to do to stop it. I am secure in the fact that the Dark Lord’s intentions shall not succeed. He has been tragically misinformed, unfortunately.”

Light felt a pinch of sorrow as he gave him a wry smile. “Unfortunately.”

Snape, unexpectedly, returned the smile, running his wand over the Mark again. “ _Tenebris Evanescet_.”

As if the ink was getting sucked right out of his skin and into the tip of Snape’s black wand, Light’s skin cleared and blossomed with a green glow before it turned back to its original tan colour. Snape flicked his wand away from Light, as if getting rid of the residue. “A spell of my own making, in case I ever survived this and wanted to get rid of my own Mark. The Dark Lord can no longer communicate with you over long distances. Do not attempt to engage with him until you are ready. He may not have the Elder wand but he is the most capable wizard I have ever known, after Dumbledore.”

Light inclined his head. “I understand. Thank you, Snape.”

“Now, Kira, listen carefully. What I am about to tell you is important, so _listen carefully_. It is the only way to kill the Dark Lord.”

Light turned his full attention to the wizard, observing everything about his greasy-haired, hooked-nosed appearance. “Great. Tell me.”

The former Headmaster of Hogwarts opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the banging open of the classroom door. “Raito-kun! What are you-”

Light whipped out the wand in his belt, L’s walnut wand. “Petrificus Totalus!”

The wand spluttered, letting out a weak stream of white magic, but refusing to harm its master. _Shit._ Snape swung into action, gracefully throwing an unnamed spell in the air, but, obviously, it was ineffective. Snape snarled, grabbing Light’s wrist. “Quick, we must fly-”

“Petrificus Totalus!” L barked, aiming the white beam at Snape, who froze in place. Light snapped into a fury.

“L! Goddamn it, close the door, don’t let anyone in! _Quietus!_ Fuck it, I don’t know any spells to hide things, just get in here.”

L glared at him, aggressively suspicious, and Light noticed (to his absolute fury) that the detective’s hand rested on the gun he had stuck in his pocket. “What the fuck are you plotting out here, Raito-kun? Are you with the Death Eaters again? Is that _Snape_ , the detested homicidal Headmaster?”

Light snapped his fingers, getting his attention. “Get the fuck in here and shut the door or I will _levitate_ you.”

L gave him a snarky grin, though his eyes still held murder. “Oh, but you can’t, can you?”

Light flicked the walnut wand up. “Accio wand, and accio your fucking gun.” The white wand whirled out of L’s hands and the gun flew out of his belt. Light caught them in midair, raising a cocky eyebrow as he stuck them both in pockets inside his robe. “Now get inside or I will petrify you. Don’t test me.”

Begrudgingly, L slipped inside and shut the door softly behind him, putting his hands up as if held at gunpoint. He gave Light an unwarranted look of loathing. “Do you want me on my knees or are you going to kill me now? It was a good trick you played, Kir-”

_“Petrificus Totalus.”_

Light turned back to Snape, quelling the spike of anger that had risen in him. “Finite Incantatem.”

The former Headmaster stirred alive and immediately drew his wand. “He can still hear. Knock him out completely. This is for your ears only, and the ears of Lily Potter’s son.”

Light bit his lip. “ _Stupefy_.”

L jerked slightly as the beam of red light hit him in the chest, his midnight eyes staring blankly at the wall, reminding him unnervingly of Bellatrix and what he had done to her.

He turned to Snape, his lips pressed together. “Okay, now tell me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Snape, Snape, Severus Snape (my favourite character even before he turned into a tragic hero, he's just golden throughout the series XD)
> 
> I'll see about taking pauses in my uploading speed, I think I'm going wayyy too fast XD
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	36. Harry Potter

_“Rennervate.”_

L blinked awake, a surge of energy going through him, and felt the most blinding anger he had felt since he had heard about Voldemort’s Obliviation of Light. He heaved up with a rattling gasp, his hands searching for a weapon, any weapon. _Light_ , he had been lying the whole time, he was Kira the _whole time_ and L couldn’t even tell! Kira had him whipped, the boy should be preparing his speech for the Oscars-

“L, calm down. It’s me, calm down. You have a real problem with jumping to conclusions.” The brunet’s overly calm, measured voice was doing nothing to ease his wrath.

_“You!”_ He grabbed Light at the collar. “You bastard, you think you can get away with-”

“Silencio. Petrificus. Now chill out.”

Light (Kira!) had only petrified L’s hands and legs, leaving him free to attempt to wriggle away from the boy. Light let out a long-suffering sigh.

“L, please. We have bigger things to worry about right now.”

L tried to shout at him, tell him that nothing the boy worried about was going to concern him, but nothing came out of his mouth.

Light squatted down beside his head. “Look, L, I’m not with the Death Eaters. You saw the Mark, you saw that he wants to kill me, or at the very least enslave me. Do you really think I’m capable of being, what, a triple agent? I betray you, then betray him, then betray you again?” Light chuckled. “Okay, maybe I’m capable of that.”

Seeing L’s lack of amusement, Light continued on. “Snape is helping me. He’s the reason I could defend myself. He was…he was in love with Harry’s mom, and he wants to help him out any way he can. The Dark Lord murdered her, right? So _he’s_ playing the double agent role here, not me.” He gave him an ironic grin. “He was the one who healed me after the fiasco at Gringott’s, so he found the Death Note pieces. When they burned him he realised what they were, so he squirreled away one of the pieces and presented the other one to the Dark Lord. He realised I was not Kira because of his Legilimency (apparently once Voldemort was gone I put my guard down). He helped me cast a Concealing charm over my wand so nobody finds out I have the piece. He put Draco Malfoy with me instead of sitting with me himself, because he knew Draco wouldn’t cause any actual harm to you guys before I disabled him. He removed my Dark Mark too, see?”

He displayed the clear skin of his forearm.

“And now he’s helping us again. He told me what we have to do to kill Voldemort. But you’ll have to trust me on this one.”

L licked his lips, waiting for the punch line. He was not disappointed.

“Harry Potter…is a Horcrux.”

L’s hysterical laughter was eerily silent, but he guffawed anyway, just to tick Light off.

“L, I’m not joking.”

L rolled around on the floor as much as he could with his petrified limbs, choking on his hysterics.

“Ryuuzaki, this is _serious_. The only way to kill Voldemort is to kill Harry Potter.”

While he was mute, he thought he might as well mouth gibberish at Light, let him get totally and completely pissed. He succeeded, the boy’s cheeks turned red as he pulled out his wand. “ _Finite Incantatem_. There, are you happy?”

L tested his voice, drawing his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “Raito-kun. You. Are. A. Bastard.”

Light rolled his eyes. “Will you get serious? Harry is a Horcrux. When Voldemort tried to kill him as a baby and his mother saved his life, Voldemort’s fragile soul split and lodged into Harry’s. So, technically, Harry has two souls fused together in him. That’s why he can see into Voldemort’s mind without being a Legilimens like Snape.”

L gave him a sweet smile. “You know, Raito-kun, I’ve just realised. I can tell when you’re acting and when you’re not.”

He could see a vein popping out of Light’s forehead. “So then you can see I’m not.”

“Yes, I can. The murderer and Death Eater Severus Snape has gotten Kira wrapped around his little finger. He should be proud.”

Light groaned. “Look, just trust me. Snape is going there to die. He’s going to be murdered by Voldemort because the fucker thinks he’s the owner of the Elder wand. He has no reason to lie at this point. I trust him. Trust me.”

L gave him a snarky look. Seeing Kira gone was lifting his spirits greatly. “You want me to trust you, Raito-kun? Really?”

“Yes, I…” Light stopped. His face grew pensive, he chewed on the inside of his cheek. His eyes were fixed on the corner of the room. L turned there, saw that the corner was empty and sat up, touching his thumb to his bottom lip.

“Light, you alright?”

The boy was frozen, the flashing lights from the window on the other side of the classroom illuminating his face, throwing shadows over his high cheekbones and straight nose. His eyes glowed amber, unfocussed and faraway. Slowly, his pale-pink lips formed a word.

“Kira.”

L narrowed his eyes. “Was there a reason for that declaration, Raito-kun?”

Light’s eyes flicked to him for a second before drifting back to their resting place at the corner. “Stupid, I’m stupid. How did I not think about this before? I’ve been so busy dealing with my new powers and making sure you don’t mistrust me...”

That didn’t sound good. “What is that supposed to mean, Light?”

A tiny smile lit up his face for a fleeting second. “Nothing. Let’s go-”

“No, you are not using the Death Note again.”

The teenager cocked his head, giving him an infuriatingly arrogant smile. “Oh, L, you’re too paranoid. Let’s go find Harry, we should probably talk to him about his impending death.”

L grabbed Light by the edge of his robe as he made to get up. “ _No_ , Raito, you are _not_ using the Death Note. You know what happens to you.”

Light tugged at his grip, and L watched him suppress his smirk. “Okay, L, I’m not using the Death Note. Now let me-”

_“Light!”_

Light gave him a charming grin, raising his eyebrows. “Yes, Ryuuzaki?”

L felt the irritation flush his cheeks. The brunet looked so triumphant, what did he have to be proud of? “Have you no shame, Raito-kun? You tell me that you’re Kira with pride, as if he isn’t a disgusting murderer of thousands, as if you have forgotten all the progress we made. Maybe you’re right, you _are_ Kira.” L snarled with as much vitriol as he could find. “Go on, then, use the Death Note, but don’t expect me to go home and forgive you for it.”

That made Light pause. “What are you saying, Ryuuzaki?”

L relished in the disappearance of that cocky, self-satisfied, infuriating smile. “If you use the Death Note again, Kira, I will execute you myself.”

He expected Light to withdraw as he usually did, to sulk or stare at him in shock. He did not expect the brunet to shove him down and jump to his feet, eyes flashing, enraged. “So the truth finally comes out then. I thought so. _I thought so,_ I knew The Detective L wouldn’t be satisfied just taking the notebook away, it wouldn’t be foolproof, would it? I could always just become Kira _just like that_ , couldn’t I? All that _bullshit_ about never being able to kill me, _I thought so_. I will use the notebook, L. I will end this war, and I will do it right now, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“No, Light! You will not! You swore you would never use it again!”

Light spun around, leaning in close to L. “Yes, I did, but it’s a fucking war! There are children in this castle! The Dark Lord is coming, and he’s going to kill us all, would you rather die?” He stared furiously into L’s midnight eyes, and something changed in his expression. The fury turned into something softer and he sighed. “Fine, L, how about this. I ask Harry Potter for Voldemort’s real name and write only that on the Note.”

L shook his head, and Light nearly shouted at him again before the detective pulled his piece of the Note from under his sweatshirt. On it, Tom Riddle’s name was neatly penned three different ways. _Tom Riddle. Thomas Riddle. Thomas Marvolo Riddle._

“When I thought he had hurt you, I had…” The detective shrugged. “We need another solution, Light, and we will solve this using magic. Not the Note. I expect you to control yourself.”

“Then…what shall we do? Should we just let Harry die?” Light asked.

 L mused. “How sure are you that Snape is telling the truth and Harry is a Horcrux? You are right, it makes sense since he can find Horcruxes and read Voldemort’s mind, but we need to be absolutely certain before we proceed.”

Light pattered his fingers on his elbow. “I am very sure he is telling the truth, L. He showed parts of it to me in my head using Legilimency. Dumbledore, the man they keep mentioning to be the greatest wizard in the world, he said it himself to Snape. He showed me everything. He even gave me another way to kill Horcruxes, through this spell called Fiendfyre. He has no reason to lie, he truly believes Voldemort will kill him now. You know how good a liar I am, L. I can spot people lying.”

“He believes that Voldemort will kill him? Personally?”

“Yes.”

L smiled. “Then we have our proof. We shall make Harry see into Voldemort’s head and if Snape truly is killed by him, we may tentatively assume that he is telling the truth.”

The teenager nodded. “That sounds fair.”

“Come along now. They’re probably not going to stay in the same place for long. There’s a war on, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That little bit with L writing Tom Riddle's name on the Note had been a long scene back before Light was obliviated, but I took it out because it's so much sweeter coming out of the blue here :D
> 
> Next chapter: you get a nice mix of magical projectiles, Weasleys and a surprise visitor in the end! (I'm going to try this format because it'll make writing A/N's so much fun XD)
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	37. Rennervate

Exiting the room was like stepping into a fantasy.

Or, more accurately, a nightmare.

“What the fuck happened? We were only in there fifteen minutes!” Light yelled as they ducked out of the way of a spell and hid behind a large stone pillar.

The corridor was milling with people duelling people, children and teachers in colourful robes battling white-masked man in dark velvet, robes spun and flew in the air as people threw spells at each other, with devastating consequences. Light saw one person’s head torn off by a particularly vicious spell a few metres away, blood spraying the hallway. Cacophony plagued the halls, shouts and shrieks echoing from everywhere as flashes of light lit up the shadowy nooks of the castle.

Two people ran in front of Light and L, screaming at the top of their lungs as they hurled curses at a Death Eater. The man in the white mask quickly threw _Stupefy’s_ at them, making them fall to the ground still propelled by their feet, sliding a few metres away. The masked wizard then turned to them. To L, who was wearing white, not the black velvet of a Death Eater.

It spurred Light to action. He tossed L’s walnut wand back to him and drew his own shining aspen, his eyes stony. “Avada-”

L shoved him out of the way with one strong hand. _“Stupefy!”_

The Death Eater fell motionless on his side and L grabbed Light by the shoulders. “Are you fucking addicted to murder? No killing!”

Light bobbed his head sharply. “Alright, fine, no killing. Come on, I hope the others are alright.” Light grabbed L’s free hand with the hand missing the finger (it barely hurt at all, he noted absently), keeping his wand at ready as curses were flung over their heads.

One green spell raced towards Light’s side, and the boy flicked his wand at it, making it spin into and crumble down a massive pillar. L gaped. “What-what-be careful!” He yanked Light behind him. “Protego!” The shield charm deflected a fiery red jinx and they ran without a second look.

“Wait, wait, L, we can’t be affected by spells!” Light suddenly burst out, but L gave him a sharp look.

“Light, don’t take that chance. Next thing you know some spell is stronger than the Death Note, or somebody is as strong as you. Run _faster!_ Jesus!”

L was surprisingly quick on his feet. Light was panting as they took the winding stairs up, hunting for the Golden Trio and narrowly missing a fireball that hit the wall to the side of Light’s face, slightly charring the ends of his hair. Apparently, Neville had pointed out a particular corridor they had assembled in after Light had slipped away-

“You’re joking, Perce! You’re actually joking!” A merry voice rang out from their right. Light tugged L in that direction, it was most likely to be where the Trio was, nobody else would be able to be making conversation during chaos like this. The two bounded over as the laughter echoed, several people coming into view further down. “I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were-”

An explosion boomed where the men stood, throwing Light and L off their feet. Light’s ears rang as he crawled upright. His head throbbed where he had hit it on the ground. He scrambled around, hunting for L in the dusty chaos and sighed with relief when he found him beside him, shaken but alright. The brunet closed his fingers around his wand before wobbling up on jelly feet. He sprinted to the site of the explosion, and saw that it had been like a magical bomb, tossing back everyone who had gathered there in the hallway. Slowly, they all got up, and he heard agonised cries of despair as he thudded towards them.

“Fred, no!” It was Ron, standing beside another redhead and shaking a man who had fallen limp on the ground. “No, Fred, wake up!”

“Ron!” Light cried, sliding on his feet as he gathered his balance in a pool of blood. “What happened?”

Ron looked up at him with tears streaming down his dusty, freckled face. “Light! My brother-”

“Rennervate!” The brunet shouted, slipping gracefully into a kneel beside Fred’s head. He examined his head (too much blood, not good) and placed his fingers at the crook of his neck, finding his pulse. It was there, failing, soon to be gone, but there. A _rennervate_ wouldn’t work for this. “Vulnera Sanentur!”

The wound at his head closed up, stopping the blood loss. It was a step, but he needed something for the internal injuries. He hunted for any knowledge he could possibly have and came up with nothing. “Spells, Ron, give me spells!”

Ron was still in shock, but the man next to him, the redhead wearing horn-rimmed spectacles and dressed in heavy black, dropped to his knees on the other side of Fred’s body. “Reparifors, Braccium Emendo, Episkey, um…I don’t think there are any more, we need potions, and-”

Light repeated each of the spells in succession, his eyes burning with passion, the wand glowing as he let out all of his aggravation on the dying man. _No, not dying_. He was not going to die, not while Light was around. He placed his hand on the redhead, his wand pointed at his eyes as if he was about to gouge them out.

“Rennervate.”

Nothing happened, and Light felt a depth of outrage he hadn’t felt for a long time, not since those days before the Death Note, when he saw injustice on the news and knew there was nothing he could do about it. “Rennervate! _Rennervate!”_

He had become Kira to stop this. To stop meaningless deaths like this, to save the faceless innocents. The man was _Ron’s family_. He was a _good man_ , and he had died while he was joking with his brothers. He had died while he _laughed_ , his lips were still tilted up.

Before he knew it, Light was screaming. _“Rennervate! Rennervate, you ginger fuck!”_

The glowing beams jetting out of his wand with every cry were growing brighter with the extent of his passion, as if powered by his energy. And they were, weren’t they? This was his magic, his powers, his energy, and he would bring this man back to life if it was the last thing he did.

It was what he had set out to do. It was Kira’s mission.

_“Rennervate!”_

It felt like something had torn itself out of him. He gasped as his ears popped and let out a whine. He dropped his wand, clutching at his head as it pounded with blood, but the man wasn’t alive yet. He had to live! Light grappled for his wand with a pale hand he vaguely recognised, his vision bleary and ears filled with noise. He yanked it from him, despite the clawing in his chest, despite feeling like he might die if he used another drop of magic. He _said_ he would bring this man to life again if it was the last thing he did. He wasn’t dead yet.

His hand shook uncontrollably as he pointed his wand at the fallen man’s nose. “R-Rennervate…”

The energy gushed out of him, and even with his fading vision he could see the pulsing magic, brighter than the midday sun, flowing out of his wand and into the dying man. He saw the redhead flush with colour and  pry his eyes open, looking like he had just seen death, and he had, he probably had, he was alive again after putting a foot into the afterlife.

Light felt someone hugging him, it was probably L, he decided. He breathed in his hair and smelled an unfamiliar scent, like singed paper and grass. He decided he liked that smell very much. “Light…” The man whispered into his ear, his voice echoing, reverberating in his mind, and his hair tickled his nose. “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Oh, god, you saved his life, I can’t thank you enough.”

He declared to himself that he liked grateful L, smiling dazedly, absorbing the fact that L’s blurry hair looked much closer to red than black. Strange.

“Harry…Horcrux…” He croaked out, attempting to realign the detective’s priorities before the darkness grew too deep to resist and his head tipped back, unable to support itself.

“Raito-kun?”

His eyes slipped shut, and the world was shut out. He could still hear, but it felt as if he was listening from inside an aquarium, echoing and distorted, too loud for his ears.

 _“His wand!”_ Someone shrieked. Light would have winced but he was too tired to move his muscles. “Oh, goddamn it, Raito! Raito, can you hear me?” He felt himself being shaken like a lifeless doll. “Weasley! Check his vitals, you bloody _retard!_ Raito? Raito, please respond. Are you alright?”

Raito didn’t respond. He was staring into a black abyss, a speck of light flaming in the distance.

“He’s not _…he’s not breathing!_ Let go of him, you imbecile! You _cretin!_ Get out of the way!”

The voice felt like it was on the loudspeaker in a train station, somewhat far away and tuned out, a random noise in an already noisy platform. He focussed on that pinpoint of light far in front of him, focussed on getting to it, away from this blankness, this abyss.

“Rennervate! Raito, oh, god, no, you can’t do this again! Raito…!”

The light was coming closer, a bright halo around…around a place. A place different from this nothing, a place in a different world.

“You can’t do this to me again! I only just got you back, Raito, you can’t, _you can’t…Raito!”_

The pattering of spraying heavy rain filled his ears as he stepped onto an overcast roof looking over the streets of Tokyo, the tiles slippery under his polished formal shoes. He hugged his white shirt closer to himself as he peered out from under the enclosure at a figure standing in the rain, head tipped back to face the clouds, eyes closed in pure serenity.

He hesitated. “Ryuuzaki?”

The person glanced over at him, almost coyly, and he froze in terror, his blood turning to ice.

Naomi Misora gave him a bright smile, mirroring the one he had first given her so very long ago. “Hello, Yagami Raito.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish Naomi Misora had had more screentime, Death Note doesn't have enough strong women in it (who are not obsessed with Light of course) :(
> 
> Next chapter: A nice long chat with a vengeful Kira victim!
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	38. Misora

“H-how? You’re dead!”

The woman, not his first innocent victim (and yet, somehow she was), seemed melancholy, turning back to the skies, a perfect reflection of Ryuuzaki on that day, on the day everything had changed.

“If I’m dead, I suppose you are too.”

Light’s breath caught in his throat. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. You expended all of the energy in your body on the revival of Fred Weasley. You are expended. You are dead.”

The rain was too cold on his skin, they felt like bullets peppering him. “I-I can’t be dead. Not so soon. I still have…I have plans. I have things to do. The Horcrux…Harry…Ryuuzaki. I…I can’t leave Ryuuzaki.” It struck him, the horror of it all. “I can’t be dead, not yet!”

Naomi gave him an expressionless once-over. “Do you think repeating that will bring you back to life?”

His teeth chattered in the cold. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself. “Misora-san, please, I have to go back. I have to get back to him, I can’t leave him now. It’s all my fault, everything, I brought him here. Please, at least let me take him back home, then you can do whatever you want. You can g-get your revenge in this purgatory or wherever it is, I won’t stop you. Please.”

The woman gave him a condescending smirk. “You think _I_ have brought you here?”

Light swallowed. “You haven’t?”

She tilted her head back and laughed. “Oh, no, I haven’t. You see, I’m in your head. I’m not real.”

Light shivered. This was getting worse. “T-then I’m stuck here?”

She raised her eyebrows. “That would be an appropriate punishment, wouldn’t it? Stuck in the rain, cold to the bone, alone forever. It would be very fitting.” She smiled. “Do you know how I killed myself?”

Light ducked his head, the tears stinging his eyes. “No.”

She walked over to him, her heavy shoes clacking on the slippery tile. “What an appropriate revenge it could have been. _Suicide, body never found_. How very thorough of you. Cold _and_ alone.”

Light shut his eyes. “I-I had to kill you, you were going to expose me.”

“Yes, you are right. I was going to expose you.” Her lips were centimetres from his ear. “I was going to expose you, and so was my fiancé and the twelve other FBI agents you murdered in cold blood.”

Light nodded, his chin lowered and eyes squeezed against the tears that had started to worm their way out. “I had to protect myself. I had no choice.”

Her breath was hot against his chilled skin. “I never had a burial, because my body was never found. I am probably still hanging there, birds pecking out my eyes, weathering the sun, the rain, the wind. My shoes may still be there where I took them off.” She smiled humourlessly.

Light finally looked up at her. “Misora-san…”

“I want my revenge, Yagami Raito. I want revenge for my life and my fiancé’s.”

The teenager looked away. “I’m sorry, Misora-san. I repent for it, truly. I wish I didn’t have to kill you. I really wish I didn’t, but your fiancé could have incriminated me. I killed in self-defence.”

“Self-defence? I trusted you! I-”

Light clenched his jaw, swallowing a strangled sob. “I get it! I get it, I’m a murderer, I’m a terrible person, but I had good intentions! I wanted to make the world a better place, and I’m sorry I used the wrong methods, but you’re _dead_ and if I’m stuck here I’d rather you just get out of my head and leave me to it!”

Misora stared at him, her face impassive. To Light’s absolute disbelief, her lips slowly curved up and she let out the softest laugh he had ever heard. The guilt stabbed him, as it did every time he thought about her…but that soft laugh, that giggle muffled behind her hand, it tore at him. It reminded him of his sister, Sayu, distinctly. He missed Sayu terribly. He never thought he would, but having not seen her for almost a year now…

“You really are like him.” She laughed breathily. “Underneath all that...manipulation, vileness, deceit, you’re just like him.”

Light swallowed the lump in his throat, opting not to reply.

When he looked back at her, she was looking up again, and there was a small upward turn to her lips. “Yagami Raito, you are not trapped here.”

Light didn’t say anything, tilting his head forward. He had never felt so ashamed, so sickened by himself. He had killed Misora in cold blood. He had left Ryuuzaki all alone. All he caused was pain.

“You may return, if you wish. You are connected to the Sword of Gryffindor. The Sword is a magical object of immense power, it can easily replenish you. All you need to do is ask, and it shall obey, especially since you died sacrificing yourself for a Gryffindor.”

Light felt numb. The rain soaked him, his hair dripping over his face.

“All you need to do is ask, Yagami Raito. If you believe you do not deserve to stay here, to do your penance.”

_Do you deserve anything but a painful, humiliating death?_

The shadow of a smile appeared on Light’s lips. “Penance? Do you really think my ambitions are so low?”

And because Naomi Misora was only in his head, she understood. Her smile was sad. She looked heavenly in the rain, a parody of an angel, in her black trench coat, her long black hair plastered to her in the rain, her lips lily-white, a vampire returned to life.

“Underneath all of _that_ , Yagami-kun, you are a good man. Sacrificing yourself for somebody you don’t know is a good way to die. Dying a murderer is not. You have managed both.”

“I suppose it’s all the same, in the end.”

Naomi Misora gave him another of those heartbreakingly soft laughs. “Now I know you don’t believe that. You are responsible for your actions, Yagami Raito. Do not let there be another Naomi Misora.”

Light nodded. “I swear to you that I won’t.”

“Harry Potter will try to get himself killed. L will tell him that he is a Horcrux. You must stop him before he sacrifices himself.”

Light shuttered his eyes. “But then…how do we kill Voldemort?”

“There is a way. I know you are smart enough to think of it.” She gave him a tiny smile. “I forgive you, Yagami Raito. You were in over your head. I do not blame you any longer.”

Light, despite everything, managed a grin. “You’re saying that because you’re a figment of my imagination. Of course you’d forgive me in my head.”

Naomi walked over, her heavy shoes clacking loudly, and placed her small hand on his shoulder. “Yes, this is all in your head. But why on Earth should that mean that it is not real?”

The world began to fade away around him. He took one last desperate glance at Naomi Misora’s bright smile. “Goodbye, Yagami Raito.”

“Goodbye, Misora Naomi-san.” He whispered, and the stormy rooftop faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Naomi is my Dumbledore because I associate both of them with betrayal (for obvious reasons XD)
> 
> Next chapter: a very pissed off L!
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	39. Another One

_Fiendfyre_.

L sat with the book on his lap as people milled about him with dead bodies in their wake, carrying the injured and healing them with their puny spells and potions (if those damn healers had been there upstairs, L wouldn’t be here at all). The book in his lap was the Death Note, which he had apparated to with the ridiculous idea that its energy could bring Light back to life, as if people could be brought back to life. He had stabbed it with the sword before he had touched it so that ownership of the Note would stay with Light. He had tried everything.

They were silly ideas, created out of pathetic desperation. L wasn’t used to acting that way, and he certainly wasn’t going to act that way any longer. Emotions had never agreed with him, he should have known better than to attach to any another person (and especially to his suspect, to a _serial killer)._

 Now, though, despite Hermione offering to apparate back to the forest with him to rebury the notebook, L sat at the base of the steps, holding it in his lap and brushing his fingertips over the slightly raised white lettering on the cover. If he opened the book to the right pages, he would see Light’s lettering, his careful, meticulous hand. Did he want to?

L kept the book closed, his mind whirring with information. Fiendfyre. Yagami had mentioned a Fiendfyre spell that Severus Snape had taught him. Hermione would certainly know it, she was the most dedicated crammer he had ever seen, even worse than Light had been-

No, he refused to think about that boy. He refused to give him the satisfaction wherever he was beyond the grave. Yagami had left him, betrayed him, died for nothing. Why did he die? He wasn’t sacrificing his life for anyone important, they didn’t even _know_ him. L could say it was uncharacteristic of Light to do, but it wasn’t, that was the whole problem. Justice for the innocent, his gigantic God complex, his generally martyr-like attitude towards everything he did, he had loved the idea of self-sacrifice, hadn’t he? He had loved thinking that he would die in the service of the people, that he was giving his life for a greater cause.

Selfish. He was selfish and arrogant and naïve. He thought he was special, giving his life for somebody else? All he had to have done was look around. Everybody was dying, jumping in the way of spells and battling others to protect their loved ones. He wasn’t special in the slightest, dying to save someone. All he had been was _selfish_.

“Hermione.” L snapped out in his new razor-sharp voice. Hermione jerked her head up, staring at him. She had been standing over with the Weasleys around Light’s body as Ron snivelled and told them who he was. As if they needed to know. As if anyone would remember the plucky idiot Light Yagami after this war was over. None of them knew him. He had sacrificed himself for people who would forget him in an instant.

“Hermione.” He called again, and the brunette quickly told Ron where she would be and bounded over. Her eyes were huge and brown, muddy boots and creamy chocolate (thankfully not caramel. L wasn’t sure he could ever bear to see eyes that shade ever again). Hermione looked wary, and he didn’t blame her. He had yelled at her quite viciously only about fifteen minutes ago.

“Yes, L?”

L held up the notebook. “Give me the incantation for Fiendfyre.”

Hermione’s brow crinkled. “How did you find out about Fiendfyre?”

L gave her the blankest look he had, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. It unnerved her, as it had been intended to, and she stammered. “I-it’s Dark magic. You’re not supposed to use it.”

“Let me worry about what I must or must not do. Do you know the incantation?”

Hermione, after thinking for a bit, shook her head. “No, it’s very advanced Dark magic. I…I don’t know it.”

L’s expression turned hostile. “Where is Harry Potter?”

“He’s standing there with Ron with…with the...t-they’re talking about-”

L held up a hand. “Severus Snape is preparing to die. I require Harry Potter immediately.”

Hermione looked alarmed. “What?”

“I require Harry Potter this very minute, Hermione Granger, and if you do not fetch him from there, I will Accio him here.”

Hermione nodded jerkily and flashed off to beckon Harry over. L sighed, resting his head against the banister of the stairs. He wasn’t going over there, not for anything. Not for anybody but one, and that one wasn’t here anymore.

Harry Potter approached him hesitantly, his green eyes wide under his messy mane. L was glad for the Caucasian appearance of the boy, it reminded him of Winchester, of orphanages and successors and L, the greatest detective in the world (rather than of Tokyo, Ryuuzaki and weakness).

“Potter. I would like you to enter the mind of Lord Voldemort.”

“Why…?”

Hermione, at his side, frowned. “He shouldn’t do it so often, L. Voldemort will sense it-”

“Has he killed Severus Snape yet?”

Harry’s mouth hung open. “What? No. Why would he-”

“In that case, enter his mind. It had sounded as if his death was near.”

Hermione looked outraged. “You met Snape?”

L felt the anger in his belly ignited by her outburst, but he quelled it. The Detective L did not lose his temper. The Detective L was a _stone wall_. “Yagami-kun met Snape. He informed me that Snape was going to be killed. I have learnt important information from him. Now stop blubbering over a dead body and do your jobs.”

Hermione tightened her jaw. “L, I know you’re hurting but he was our friend too.”

Potter, thankfully, closed his eyes and pressed his scar with his fingertips. His pallor changed, turning splotchy as he heaved in a heavy breath. Hermione gave L a hateful look as she eased Harry down to sit on the steps so he wouldn’t pass out or hurt himself as he usually did.

L looked down at the book on his lap. The book that had been a curse on his life for the past year and a half, the book that had torn his heart open and left it on the ground, that had stripped him of his pride and dignity. The book that had led him to Yagami Raito and started all of this torture. He had been perfectly happy as the world’s greatest detective, he had been solving cases and eating sweets, content on his own before Yagami came in and ruined everything. He knew that he couldn’t return to that life once more. It would seem too little now that he knew how to laugh at a silly joke, how to play chess with a mind as brilliant as his, how to wish the world would end so that he never had to leave the warm arms of the sleeping boy wrapped so tightly around him.

_I hate you, Light Yagami. I hate you with all my heart and more. I will never forgive you._

He would destroy this book. It was evil, it only caused misery, that was all it could possibly be used for. But first, he would take down Voldemort. “Hermione. I need you to make another picture for me. Like you did of Tom Riddle, but this time of one of his closest Death Eaters. One who can be at his side at all times.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Why? So you can use the Death Note again? I thought you told me the Death Note causes psychosis and addiction. You said it would make you a serial murderer, and in this world nobody can stop you since none of us can touch the notebook.”

L felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. “Do you want to stop this war?”

Hermione’s face turned pink. “Don’t you dare ask me that question. Of course I want to stop it! My closest friends have died here! But I will not let you use the Death Note, because what if you want to kill Fred next for taking Light away? What if you want to kill Ron for asking for his help? If the Note is truly a slippery slope, I can see you do that. You’re the kind of person capable of thinking that way.”

L was about to retort when he felt a chill in his stomach. She was right. He was capable of that. He was very much capable of killing Ron as retribution, the thought had even occurred to him minutes after he realised Light was dead.

Was he capable of being Kira? He knew he was similar to Light, but did the similarity extend so far?

Interrupting his thoughts was Harry, who let out a piercing shriek. Everyone in their vicinity snapped their heads towards them, bewildered. Harry scrabbled at his scar, and Hermione pulled his hand away. “Harry! Harry wake up!” She turned to L furiously. “Why did you make him do this?”

L felt his cold anger bubble up, once again, but he would not let it out. Emotions were for weaklings. He gave her a disdainful look. “It was necessary. Deal with the issue at hand, Granger. This is no time to pass out blame.”

Her nostrils flared with the heat of her indignation at that, but she did obey his command. “Harry!” She shook the boy, who seemed to finally slip out of his trance. He straightened his glasses on his nose and blinked up at them.

“H-he’s right. L is right, he’s murdering them. Snape a-and…M-Malfoy. He’s going to kill D-Draco now. W-we should find them. We should find t-them before he makes another one.”

L nibbled on his thumbnail. “Another what?”

Harry turned his wide eyes to him, and the fear in them was palpable. “H-he’s making another Horcrux.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what the result would be if I catalogue how many times I've written 'poor L' in my A/N XD
> 
> Give me some reviews guys! Let me know what you think :D


	40. Lumos

Light opened his eyes to an overcast sky, which puzzled him. He wasn’t on a roof, he was on a…on a stone floor, cold and rough, the kind of floor that would be present in those large temples his mother used to take him to when he was a kid.

It took three or four blinks to realise that it wasn’t a real sky, it was a projection. The sky was magically projected onto the ceiling of the Great Hall, fat clouds trailing lazily past as…as large black shapes zipped across. Death Eaters on brooms, and strange hooded beings who seemed to have no mode of transport, floating smudges under the cumulonimbus.

Light closed his eyes for a second, gathering his bearings. Misora-san had said that he had been dead, but the Sword of Gryffindor had replenished him. Was the Sword of Gryffindor keeping him immortal, or did the immortality only apply to when he exhausted his powers? It seemed the latter was more likely; he had passed out when Hermione had first stabbed the Death Note, and he had revived and gone on pretty smoothly. Perhaps that was how human bodies worked when faced with excess magic: they failed.

Light’s mouth quirked. Well, he wasn’t that much of a failure. When helped out by the Sword of Gryffindor, he was a pretty good channel. After all, he did keep coming back to life.

Coming back to life hurt. He ached all over, as if he had strained all of his muscles, he felt drained and alert at the same time. The magic in him was rushing, as if the Sword had charged him back up to maximum capacity. He wished he could thank it, wherever it was. Hermione had it, didn’t she? Maybe he could find her and see how well he wielded it. It was supposed to adore him, he had saved a Gryffindor and everything.

Light chuckled giddily. He saved a life, he brought a man back to life at the cost of his own, and Misora-san had forgiven him for his crimes as Kira. Everything was going great so far. He was a good man, he was finally a good man. That was all he had ever wanted to be.

He turned his head as he started to sit up and froze.

The dead face of Remus Lupin lay in front of him, eyes closed and pallor so pale he could have mistaken it for Voldemort’s. His mouth was slightly open, his straggly brown hair even more unkempt than usual. He was lying at a tilt, one of his hands placed on his stomach and the other…

The other was held tight in Tonks’.

Tonks, the pink-haired pregnant woman he had met in Shell Cottage, who had transformed into all those different faces and made fun of Fleur, who had transfigured her hair into his just to see his reaction, who compared her pregnancy to a cake in the oven, who must have just given birth…

Dead. Dead as a rock. Dead as…dead as everyone else in this row, on this side of the room, on either side of him for as far as he could see. There had to be at least fifty stiff bodies, all too still and pale, some wrapped up in gauze though the blood under it had long since turned brown and dry.

He looked down at himself, his head spinning and making him nauseous. He wasn’t in his Death Eater black anymore, he wore a rough red cotton robe trimmed with gold. The clothing underneath, his usual shirt and trousers, was still intact. His piece of the Death Note was gone. It had been in the pocket of his robe, he hadn’t had time to stick it back to himself in all the chaos. So he was powerless, then…

As he sat up, he felt something crinkle on his stomach. He slipped his hand into the robe and under his shirt and found a sheet of the Note, an entire sheet taped securely there by precise, meticulous fingers. That made no sense, it would mean they had brought the Note back from wherever it was, they must have had it here right now.

That was dangerous. If Voldemort ever found it, there would be hell to pay. He may even use L as his new Kira, and L wouldn’t take that well at all.

Wait. His death wouldn’t have any effect on his ownership of the Note, would it? Light paused for a second, then shrugged. It didn’t matter, really. The power of the Sword of Gryffindor obviously flowed exclusively through him, ownership wouldn’t matter at this point or else it wouldn’t have been able to replenish him.

He shook his head to clear it. He had to focus. He was lying in the row of dead bodies (no, he wouldn’t look beside him. He wouldn’t think about them…). They must have assumed him to be one of the victims of the war. L had obviously kept him close for a while, considering his practical change of robes from that of a Death Eater to what smelled like Neville’s garb. The detective must have summoned the Death Note from wherever he kept it and…and must have tried to revive him with it. But now L was gone.

What could he be doing right this moment? Light was sure L would not use the Note for revenge, he wasn’t the type…was he? But then he remembered the names written on L’s piece. _Tom Riddle._ He _was_ the type. He might not have been capable of causing a genocide, as Light was, but he was very much capable of doing something reckless in an attempt to assassinate the Dark Lord for vengeance.

But L didn’t know all the rules of the Death Note. He hadn’t experimented like Light had, and so didn’t know the extent of his powers.

Light ran a hand through his copper hair, frowning. It was entirely in character for L to want revenge. It was what Light would have done if the roles were reversed, and it had always been established that he and Ryuuzaki had the same core personalities.

He had to find him…but first, he had to find a wand. Unsurprisingly, his own was missing from the pockets of his robe (something had happened to his wand, hadn’t it? L had screamed something about the aspen wand before Light…before he died). He had to find a wand, this was a warzone.

He struggled to his feet, catching the attention of a witch who was weeping silently in front of a dead man. She stared at him, her silky black hair running over one blue-robed shoulder as she walked over. “Why are you lying there? Are you hurt? Do you need help? This is…this is the wrong row for injuries.”

Light gave her an ironic look. “It’s not like I was lying there on purpose.”

Her eyes widened, and he took in her distinctly Chinese appearance. It made him feel better, like he was talking to someone from home (somewhat) after too many British people to count. “Did they mistake you for dead? Oh, that must have been horrifying! Are you injured? What happened to you? I’m Cho Chang, by the way. I can help, if you need anything.”

Light smiled charmingly. “I’m fine, Cho. I must have passed out. Where are we?”

“We’re in the Great Hall. We’re tending to the wounded here.”

Light frowned, cocking his head. “The Great Hall? But…they were duelling here, weren’t they?” His frown deepened. “Oh, fuck, how long must I have been out?”

Cho shook her head, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “No, it must not have been long. V-Voldemort gave us two hours of peace to tend to our wounded. Out of _respect_.” Her voice was bitter. “Respect, like the kind he showed us by attacking in the first place. Respect, like the kind he’s showing Harry by telling him his friends are dying for him and that he should go and die too.”

Light paused. “Wait. He said what?”

Cho bit her lip. “He told Harry that he should meet with him in the Shrieking Shack in our two hours of respite or he will start the war again.” Seeing Light’s panicked expression, she immediately stroked his upper arm soothingly. “Don’t worry, we’re not letting him go. Are you a friend of his?”

_Naomi Misora. He couldn’t let another innocent die just because it was the simplest solution. He had to think of another way, he had to think!_

“I-I am. Do you know where he is?”

Cho shook her head regretfully. “I’m sorry. It’s a little hard keeping track of people right now…wait. Isn’t that him right there?”

Light spun around and saw a ripple stumble on the last step of the stairs leading down into the hall, revealing a glimpse of the Boy-Who-Lived in all his ruffled glory, his green eyes flashing in irritation as he adjusted the round glasses on his nose and gathered the cloak in his hands once more, ready to swish it back over his shoulders and disappear.

Light loped over faster than he had ever moved before, ripping the cloak off of the just-invisible boy and clutching it behind him, out of reach. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

 Harry reached out to grab the cloak, stopped, and looked back at Light’s face. His face drained of colour. “Y-Yagami…”

“In the flesh. You think you’re going to give yourself up? Do you think you’ll survive that little exchange?”

Harry shook his head twitchily, his mouth opening and shutting as he wondered what to say. “Y-you’re dead. W-we checked. Several times. L…”

Light flicked his hair out of his eyes. “Look, how much time do you have left to meet Voldemort?”

Harry gulped nervously. “I-I haven’t checked, but I’m thinking I have an hour or so. B-but I’m not going to meet him. I’m going for…for a plan.”

Light rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. You’re a terrible liar, Potter. Why are you giving yourself up? Is it because you’re a Horcrux or do you not know that yet?”

Potter stared at him. “A-are you real?”

That made him smile. “Yeah, I am, though that’s not important at this point. What is important is that I’m not letting you die.”

That got Harry peeved. “It’s not like I want to die. I have to, to save everyone. It’s the only way to kill Voldemort. If you know I’m a Horcrux, you also know this.”

Light nodded. “Yeah. I’m working on a plan, though. Come on, you only have an hour, let’s go to the forest. We’ll both get under the cloak, and hopefully we can get close enough to fuck the snake up with Fiendfyre.” Light reflected. “Speaking of Fiendfyre, do you happen to have my wand on you?”

Harry shuddered. “No. When you…when you…um.”

“When I died.” Light prompted. Harry stared at him in terror, and Light sighed. “Look, tell me later. We have a time limit. Give me a spare wand, all wands work the same for me anyway with the fucking Sword of Gryffindor. Oh, do you have that on you?”

Harry shook his head as he started to walk down the Great Hall. People stared at him, goggling and gaping at the Boy-Who-Lived and his charming companion, as if this was some sort of a celebrity meet-up. Light got an idea of why he was using an invisibility cloak now.

“Potter, I need that spare wand.” Light snapped. “Oh, screw it. Hey, Cho, do you have a spare wand?” He called out to the Chinese girl, who was still by the dead bodies.

Cho, who had been observing them out the corner of her eye, shook her head. “No, not really. I…I guess you could take this one, though…if you make sure to return it.” She smiled ruefully and blinked away tears, offering Light a rigid black wand. “He’s not using it anyway.” She tilted her chin to a man in blue robes (Michael Corner from upstairs?) lying in the row of the dead.

“Thanks, Cho.” He gave her a grateful grin and handed Potter back his cloak, looking down at his wand. He waited for the silver patterns, for the vines and swirls to appear along the wood…

Nothing happened.

“Lumos.” Light tested, forehead crinkling in worry. Harry looked over, bemused. The wand lit up, and it felt just as powerful as it had…before the Sword of Gryffindor had struck his Note.

He had lost it all. His unearthly special powers, they were gone. He wasn’t the most powerful wizard in the world anymore, he was ordinary.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t expected that, though. Coming back from the dead was big magic. Had he ever really expected to be the same once he returned?

Harry was staring at him, starting to get anxious, but Light shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

Nodding, the Boy-Who-Lived quickly pulled the robe over Light and himself, and Light was taken back to their infiltration of Gringott’s. He just hoped their current infiltration wasn’t as disastrous as the last one.

“Light, if you know I’m a Horcrux…what else do you know?”

Light shrugged as they snuck away down the Great Hall. “Look, I knew you were a Horcrux before I died. I don’t have divine knowledge or anything.”

Harry considered that. “Right, so you don’t know that Voldemort is currently creating a new Horcrux.” They stepped out into the fields outside Hogwarts, a cool breeze blowing, the smell of rain wafting about as people sat around, nursing injuries or tipping back a strange orange-yellow beer of sorts. It looked like a parody of a high-school party, where everybody was getting drunk while crying their eyes out and nobody wanted to put any music on.

“I suppose it’s not out of the realms of possibility.” Light said. “It does make our job a lot harder though. How far along is he?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know how to make a Horcrux so I wouldn’t know. Besides, he’s getting better at blocking me out. I can’t just slip in there anymore.”

Light pondered. “I suppose he would want you as one of the sacrifices. Two hours, he gave you? That means he’d have been preparing the spells for about two hours before that, probably the minute he learned that I had defected.” Light gave Harry a sheepish smile. “Sorry. This is my fault, isn’t it?”

Harry scoffed. “Don’t be sorry you defected, you git. I’d rather have him weakening his soul further than have Kira on his side.”

“Yeah. Makes sense.”

Harry looked up at him as they drifted down in the direction of a large, deformed willow tree which shook its branches angrily at the two of them. Potter levitated a twig quickly to its root and the tree was suddenly paralysed. “There, now come on! They’re waiting under the tree. Hurry!”

“They? You were bringing more people to your self-sacrifice?”

Harry gave him an impatient look as he shimmied down into a hole under the roots of the tree. “I told you, I was going for a plan.”

Light blinked at him as he disappeared under the roots. “So you weren’t lying? You weren’t going to get yourself killed?” _Naomi Misora, you underestimated this guy._

Harry’s eyes popped out of the hole, glasses shining in the darkness. “Well? Bring the cloak down! The tree won’t stay paralysed forever.”

Light shrugged, tugging the cloak tighter around himself as he poked his feet down into the root and slid in as gracefully as he could.

“Who has your cloak?” He heard Hermione ask in the pitch blackness under the tree. Harry made a strangled sound.

“Well…it’s hard to explain.”

Light felt a toothy grin on his face, though he knew nobody could see it under the invisibility cloak even with the meagre light of the _Lumos_ from Hermione’s wand. He looked around, seeing a raw-faced Ron who looked like he had been crying for hours (had he been crying for _him?_ …no, it was probably just the effect of the war), next to Hermione, who looked stressed enough to flay a dead horse, her hair frizzling and eyes sharp over a tight mouth.

And beside all of them, L. L, who had shuttered his eyes, who wore that blank, dead look that he had been famous for in the Task Force, looking like he didn’t give two shits about anything. Light noticed his thumb was bleeding, the man had chewed on it so mercilessly that the skin looked tender enough to rip off at the faintest touch. Light’s grin faltered. L was hiding again, the emotionless façade was back. Light hadn’t factored in that his death would have hurt L _emotionally_ , he hadn’t considered that L could be hurt by anything at all, not seriously. He always seemed so indestructible.

How could he show his face to him now?

Harry didn’t give him the chance to slip out, though, turning to his general direction and holding out his hand. “My cloak, please? We have a Dark Lord to stop.”

Was this how socially awkward people felt when asked to speak in front of a crowd? Light had never felt this feeling before, this heart-pounding, limb-freezing, face-reddening nervousness as he swished the cloak off of himself and handed it quietly to Harry.

He gave the three occupants of the tunnel an embarrassed smile as he ran his hand through his hair to fix what the cloak had left mussed.

“Hey, guys.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Quintet is reunited!
> 
> Also we're on Chapter 40! I can't believe we're here so soon, only 10 chapters+the epilogue to go!
> 
> Next chapter: L is a cinnamon roll <3
> 
> Review please!


	41. Nox

L could only catch a glimpse of him before he was engulfed in Ron Weasley, the redhead blubbering and weeping. “Light! Light, how are you alive? Oh, Light…” Weasley drew back, looking concerned, and L could get another eyeful of that impossible face, half shrouded in darkness and half lit up by the dim whiteness of Hermione’s Lumos. Amber hair shining sleekly, moderately dishevelled over the dull red Gryffindor robes they had changed him into. A sweaty face that was tired and sallow, and his eyes, honey-brown and bright, alert, intelligence shimmering through as it always did, as if he was perpetually calculating something under those thick dark lashes. He bit his soft pink lip, giving Ron a tentative, if slightly pained, smile.

“Light, are you…are you a ghost?”

Light let out a tiny breathy laugh, and L was sure he was dreaming. The detective pinched himself on the forearm hard, closing his eyes. He knew that pinching did not wake people up but he had to try. He had to wake up before he lost his mind, before he let himself forget himself in despair. There was no escaping despair after it had you in its grasp, he had seen the results of it in the children at Whammy’s House, the orphans with their blanked eyes, the successors who lost their place and never earned it back. He had seen it in A before she committed suicide, he had seen it in BB before he went insane.

“No, Ron, I’m not a ghost.” The brunet smiled (smiled!) as he touched the redheaded wizard’s hand. “See? I’m real, I’m here. We need to go stop the Dark Lord now. I heard he’s making another Horcrux. If he’s been making it for three hours now, he probably only has a couple of hours left, if he’s working as fast as I think he can work. He’s timed it so he can use Harry as his second victim, I’m sure.”

The brunet swallowed, ducked his head, and then those sharp caramel eyes were on _him_ , looking ever so slightly nervous behind his confident air. L was amazed at how accurate it was to how Light had been. L had absorbed all of his characteristics, the graceful movements, the slight tic in his left eyebrow when he was attempting to ease away from Weasley…but that small smile that indicated he was feeling shy, it was something L had never seen happen before. He couldn’t have imagined this, L may have been a genius but even _he_ wasn’t this good.

“Am I right, L?” He asked softly, and L couldn’t help it, he felt his heart break. He felt the tears prick his eyes as they gathered, but he refused to let them fall, he refused to allow anyone to see how badly it all hurt. And then the accursed boy was walking towards him and holding out his hands as if he was going to embrace him, _touch_ him, he couldn’t let him touch him. He couldn’t go insane, his mind was all he had left.

“Get away.” He whispered, stepping smartly back and refusing to look at his face. He glanced at Hermione, Ron and Harry, and they could all see him, they could all see the impossible apparition in front of him. It was blurring the lines between real and imaginary. Perhaps he was dreaming after all. Perhaps this whole thing was a nightmare and if he just managed to wake up, he would wake up beside his Raito-kun on his soft four-poster bed, with or without the handcuffs, he didn’t _care_. And then Raito would give him a sleepy smile and snuggle closer to him, and he would ask him why he was trembling so much.

Hermione came to his rescue, wrapping Light in a hug. “Light, how are you here? We saw you die. I checked you myself. What did you do?”

Light sounded uncomfortable. “The, uh. Well. The Sword of Gryffindor replenished me. I…I died because I used up all my energy bringing Ron’s brother back to life, and I guess Ron’s brother is a Gryffindor, or maybe that has nothing to do with it. Maybe it sensed me giving my life for someone else and brought me back, or maybe it just fills me whenever I lose all my energy.” He chuckled emptily. “I don’t know how it works, really.”

Hermione squeezed him. “I’m _so_ glad you’re alright, Light. We missed you. Without you, we’ve been a little at odds.” She laughed nervously, glancing at L, who started to smoulder.

Light’s lips turned up without emotion. “Thanks, Hermione.” But his eyes weren’t on Hermione, they were on L, and they were apologising, they were fearful and worried and _apologising_.

L pinched himself again, just for good measure.

Light swallowed, looking away. “Well, we need to get to the Dark Lord, now. Harry, the cloak? And how do we get there?”

“Just down this tunnel.” Harry pointed. “It’s a few minutes away. When it starts to slope up, we’ve got to put the cloak on or Volde-”

“Dark Lord.” Light interrupted. “Don’t say his name. You don’t want him to know our location right now, do you?”

“Right. Dark Lord. Cloakless, he’ll be able to see us.”

Light shrugged. “Simple enough. Is the plan spying or do you plan to act?”

Hermione seemed reassured that someone voiced that question. “We’re working mostly on improvisation. So, spying. But, Light…if anything goes wrong, can we count on you?”

Light flushed pink.

The witch blinked. “What’s wrong?” The brunet gave her a weak smile.

“No, um. I think dying used up my powers. I’m…I’m ordinary now. Well, not a muggle, I’m still more powerful than, say, L.” He had the audacity to sound faintly teasing, giving L a quick look. “But, yeah, I’m not the most powerful wizard in the world anymore.”

Hermione looked slightly put off, but her face quickly lit up with a smile. “It doesn’t matter. Another wand on our side is good enough. Keep at ready. You’re still powerful. Wait, do you have a wand?”

Harry nodded for Light. “Yeah, he wheedled one from Cho.”

Ron let out an incredulous laugh. “Great, then! And hey, you may not be the most powerful wizard in history anymore, but you’re supernatural anyway! I mean, how many people do you know who’ve come back from the dead? Come on, let’s go do this. Let’s go decimate a Dark Lord!”

Light looked hopelessly tickled by that, biting his lip to keep from laughing. “Yeah, let’s go decimate him. Best plan ever.”

Harry led the charge, whispering a Lumos to his wand and bringing in another light, illuminating the knobbed, winding tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. The walls looked like the insides of a tree, though the organic parts were fading away with time into plain dirt.

L drew his wand and gripped it in his hands, running his fingers over the smooth wood. Walnut wood. He wished it had been maple, he was missing maple syrup over pancakes, oh _Watari’s_ maple syrup over chocolate-chip pancakes, he wished he could just slurp some up-

“You’re thinking about food, aren’t you?” Light’s soft voice came from near his shoulder, and L jumped, almost whamming into the tunnel wall. Light chuckled quietly. “I am 99% sure you were thinking about food right then. Not the mission, not my resurrection and most definitely not the Dark Lord.”

L opened his mouth to retort before his heart gave out a desperate spasm and all the words died on his tongue. He snapped his mouth shut, grinding his jaw and making sure not to look Raito in the face.

“L…” The brunet sighed. “Don’t ignore me.”

The detective did just that, shutting out the weird twisting of his stomach and the pressure he felt in his chest. Nothing would move him, The Detective L was a _stone wall._

“L, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t know I would-”

And the stone wall slammed into Light’s slender body, shoving him up against the knotted tunnel, the tip of his walnut wand digging into the underside of his jaw. L felt a kind of anger powering him that he would never have felt as an orphan at Whammy’s, as the world’s greatest detective, as the ward of Watari. He ground his teeth together as he pushed the wand’s tip further into Light’s throat.

He heard Hermione gasp, and Ron came forward as if to get him off of the brunet before L turned his head, fixing his furious, sharpened gaze on him. The freckled boy paled and stopped advancing but he stood his ground, which was more than L had expected from him.

“Don’t you bloody hurt him!” The redhead shouted, and L felt the fury in him spike. His wand seemed to move on its own, aiming for Ron before Light’s hand grabbed his wrist and pulled it down. “Ryuuzaki. _L.”_

He whirled back to Light, his wand back at the brunet’s throat. “You’re sorry, are you? You’re _sorry.”_

Light winced. “I didn’t know…”

“You didn’t know that you would die? _Bullshit_. That is a lie if I’ve ever heard one. Light Yagami, not being absolutely certain what his actions would do? You knew. You knew very well what would happen and you did it anyway. You betrayed me. You left me. You knew how much you meant to me and you _left me_ , Raito.”

“No, L, I swear…”

L blinked away the stinging tears. “Liar. You’ve always been a liar. You’re so good at it, Raito, but you’re not good enough to fool me. You lying bastard. _Bâtard de menteur_. Trusting you was a _mistake_.” And he lost control, a single tear escaped him and rolled down his cheek. He watched Raito’s honey eyes follow it down its path, horror-struck. L wiped it away with his sleeve and shoved away from the teenager. He turned his incensed line of sight to Ron. “You want him so badly, don’t you, Weasley? You don’t think I deserve him? Well, you can have him. I’m done.”

He got the satisfaction of seeing Light’s lower lip wobble before he nibbled it in. “L. I’m sorry.” He said in a tiny voice.

L shook his head, continuing to walk. He would not cry for the sake of Yagami Raito. He would not cry for anybody. He was The Detective L, goddamn it! He was Justice, he was a symbol of righteousness. He would not be broken by a puny, lying teenager.

He felt himself yanked back, a tight grip on the back of his sweatshirt, and he was in Raito’s place, his back against the tunnel wall. The teenager was pushing his lips desperately against his. It tasted like salt, as if he was weeping, salt and the faintest bitter sense of something burnt. But it was soft, soft and tentative and so shy, so nervous and sweet that L almost melted on the spot. He would have melted at any other time, if he had done this at any other point in their relationship, but…

He wound himself up, his leg drawn back, and kicked Light hard in the stomach. The brunet let out a faint gasp of air as he stumbled back into Ron’s waiting arms, clutching speechlessly at his abdomen. L made sure to slowly wipe his mouth off with his sleeve, keeping his blank, soulless eyes fixed on Light before turning swiftly back in the direction of the tunnel.

 _“Ryuuzaki.”_ He realised Light was sounded close to tears, his accent growing thicker. L stopped in his tracks, frozen as he listened to the strained breaths. _“Ryuuzaki,_ _anata no tame ni modotta._ ” He croaked out. _I came back for you._

 _Liar_ was his first response, but as he dissected the tone, the statement, the anguish in his voice, it didn’t ring false. Light was telling the truth.

_“Sentakushi ga atta. Kanojo wa watashi ni sentakushi o ataeta. Kanojo wa watashi ga taizai shite kuiaratameru koto ga dekiru to watashi ni itta.”_

_I had a choice. She gave me a choice. She told me I could stay there and do my penance._

L tilted his head without turning back. “She?”

Light let out a wavering breath, seemingly so distressed he couldn’t convert back to English even if L prompted him to. Not that L minded very much, the boy’s native tongue flowed so much more naturally, truthfully from his lips. _“Josei o yumemite ita. Misora Naomi-san. Watashi wa okujō ni ita. Kanojo wa watashi ga soko ni todomatte kuiaratame dekiru to itta. Ame no naka…hitori de. Kanojo o koroshita, sore ga tadashī koto o shitteita, soko ni tomaru… shikashi, watashi wa sore o shitakunakatta. Anata o hanaretakunakatta, L. Dekimasendeshita.”_

_I hallucinated a woman. Naomi Misora. I was on the roof. She told me I could stay there forever as penance for my sins. In the rain…alone. I killed her, I knew it was the right thing to do, staying there…but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to leave you, L. I couldn’t._

L’s shoulders slumped as the meaning of the words hit him. _I didn’t want to leave you, L._ He came back to life for him, and not only that: he had hallucinated a sign of repentance for his actions as Kira. How could he push him away now? How could he protect himself when Light was giving him that heartbreaking look, hugging himself as if left alone in the cold?

Before he knew it, L had the brunet in his arms, his slim body trembling in the detective’s hold. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, L. I didn’t realise that I hurt you so much, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” Light whispered into his ear. L drew back slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the boy’s lips.

“Of course you didn’t know.”

Light sighed. “I’m supposed to know.”

L smiled sadly, shaking his head. “No, you aren’t. Or, rather, you _are_ supposed to, ideally, but you don’t, perhaps on purpose. You have no idea. You don’t want to get close to me, and so you reject the idea that I may be close to you.”

“That’s not true. I know you’re close to me.”

“Raito…” L sighed, exasperated. “You know what I mean. You’re not stupid.”

Raito laughed thickly. “Don’t think I don’t notice when you drop the _kun_ , L. Honorifics are a pretty big deal.”

Unexpectedly, that hit the right spot and L was laughing too. “Raito, you’re such a bastard. I mean…Raito-kun. Whatever. The roof, you said, didn’t you? The roof in the rain? You didn’t come back for me, Raito, you came back because you didn’t want to get wet.”

“Who’s being a bastard now?” Light was still chuckling, nuzzling his neck, and L didn’t know if the swell in his chest was joy or hysteria.

“Are you just about done?” Hermione’s voice sounded stern, but when L glanced over, he saw that she was wearing the most genuine smile he had ever seen. “We have a Horcrux creation to spy on. Harry’s already gone on ahead.”

“Sorry.” Light stepped out of L’s embrace and settled for his hand, which he squeezed tightly in his own. “Sorry, we should hurry.”

L felt fragile. Generally, _usually_ , he would hate feeling fragile, feeling weak in any way. But this was a different kind of fragile, this was the kind of fragile that would be assigned to freshly-baked pie crust, or a tower of sugar cubes. It was the kind of fragile that made L feel like he wanted to wake up the next morning. Feeling strong, feeling secure with his cases and his sweets, it was nothing like this, nothing compared to this.

That was why, despite the fact that they were heading into the lair of a man who was very likely to kill them all, despite the fact that he could lose Raito again after losing him twice already, despite everything rational in him telling him to detach before it was all torn away from him again...

Despite everything, he squeezed Raito’s warm hand, he looked up at his fiercely attractive face with his intelligent eyes and dishevelled auburn fringe, and he forgave him.

“Nox.” Harry said, and his wand went dark. “Invisibility cloak, everyone, and be quiet.” Harry mumbled. “The opening’s right in front of us.”

Light drew his wand, a straight, black stick, the exact opposite of his old one (his poor old wand, L did like looking at that one. It represented Raito so completely). It did not glow in the slightest, and no silver rivulets graced it, it acted like any other wand in any other wizard’s hand. Light hadn’t lied, he had lost his special powers.

L drew out his own wand, and tapped Light’s fondly in acknowledgement before moving on. They had a psychopath to worry about, after all. They all huddled under the invisibility cloak and Harry, who was closest to the opening into the Shack, peered in.

He made a retching sound and moved back, his face green. L glanced at Light, who quickly cast a _Quietus_ around them, not at all surprised by Harry’s reaction. “Let me see.” The brunet muttered, taking Harry’s place.

L watched as Light paled and gulped, his hands tightening into fists. A tightly curled nervous smile appeared on his lips.

“Oh, yeah. He’s making a Horcrux alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the chapter titles for these two chapters XD the last one was Lumos, because Light (get it? XD) and this one is Nox, because patterns and they're being all secretive and spy-like :3
> 
> Next chapter: Voldemort is being a gross-out!
> 
> Review please! :D


	42. Ritual

The Lord Voldemort was quite a man.

As Light watched him proceed with the ritual to create a Horcrux, he felt a kind of…respect for him against his will. The tall serpentine man in his flowing dark robes, his white skin almost completely obscured by the dark blood smeared over it, the talons of his skeletal hands encrusted with dirt, a bloody flap of skin caught onto his littlest finger. He was holding his hands up, ready to claw into the flesh of the ravaged man lying prone at his feet, the man who was still alive and twitching and crying weakly out for help, however impossible it may seem.

Of course, the Dark Lord’s next actions quelled those little movements easily. He dug his fingernails into the stomach of the man, chanting a spell to soften the muscles so his nails didn’t break.

“He didn’t have to do that. All he had to do was disembowel him.” Light muttered, feeling at awe despite himself. This man was going all out. Light couldn’t bear to have gone through even the first three steps of the ritual, and this man was almost at step twenty. He was nearly done. Soon, he would need his second victim.

Harry, at his side, looked faint. In fact, just about everyone else looked light-headed (except L). Ron was twisting his hands together, unable to look away, his eyes wide as saucers and his face green. Hermione looked like she was in a trance, her mouth hanging open. L looked perfectly and completely blank, as usual, though even he couldn’t completely bury his quivers of disgust. He may have seen thousands of serial killers in his reign as The Detective L, but he was still human, and the Horcrux ritual was like none he could have seen.

Slowly, as if relishing every movement, the Dark Lord ripped open the now-dead man’s abdomen and extracted his intestines, blood dripping into the victim’s spray of pale-blond hair.

“Nagini, dinner.” Voldemort said in his high, sing-song voice, dropping the guts to the side away from his audience. The heavy olive-green snake slithered to the flesh, pleased. It feasted loudly, hissing rasps and the tearing of meat sounding louder than nails on a chalkboard. The snake was too far away, they couldn’t aim any kind of spell at it even if they tried. Light was pretty sure there was a protective shield around Voldemort this very minute, and without the help of the powers of Gryffindor’s Sword, he couldn’t risk it.

“T-that was D-Draco…he…he killed him…” Harry said meekly.

“Harry, maybe you should sit this one out.” Light mumbled. “The next step is much worse.” He noticed L glance at him sharply, an astonished expression on his previously carefully blanked features.

Yeah, maybe it _was_ astonishing how little Light was affected by this, especially since he had _talked_ to Draco. He hadn’t been a bad guy, just…a little cowardly. Maybe he wasn’t affected because of how many times he had visualised himself performing this ritual, overexposure to the idea of it. Or maybe he was just a heartless bastard.

Letting out the quietest chuckles he had ever heard, Voldemort drew the Elder wand and cut out a sizeable piece of flesh from Draco Malfoy’s chest and levitated it in front of him. There was a corner of the heart buried in there, Light could see the aorta sticking out, spraying blood from its ragged end. The serpentine man brought the flesh to his lips and took a slack-jawed bite, blood spilling down his skin as the muscle tore.

Hermione swung violently back and emptied the contents of her stomach behind them. Light was glad for the Quietus charm. L reached over and touched Light’s fingertips, curling his hand around his, and Light’s surprise only grew when a flitting glimpse revealed how pale the detective had gone.

“Never seen it happen in person.” L murmured in answer. “Always a screen. He’s eating them. He’s _eating_ them.” The sentence prompted Ron to turn neatly around and lope over where Hermione was emptying her stomach.

Light nodded, and L looked over with large dark eyes. “Would you have eaten somebody too?” The detective was loosening his grip on Light’s fingers.

Light ducked his head, turning back to the gory scene in front of him. “No.” That one word satisfied Ryuuzaki, who tightened his hold again, clutching desperately to the brunet’s hand.

Voldemort threw the rest of his handful of flesh into Nagini’s pile and wiped his hands on his robe. _That_ sent a twinge of disgust down Light’s spine (come on, how hard could a _scourgify_ be?). He lifted his taloned hands in a reverential posture, and tilted his head to the ceiling.

Light expected the words that would come next. He had learnt them by heart, after all.

_“Vos autem tanti nihil. Es quidem vir mortis.”_ He recited with Voldemort under his breath, his eyes shuttering, remembering all the daydreams he had had of immortality, of giving the murderers what they deserved. “You are worth nothing. You deserve to die.”

L’s grip on his hand was growing painful, cutting off the blood flow to his fingers, and out the corner of his eye he spied the incensed glare the detective was giving him, but Light could barely feel it. He was enchanted, transfixed by the Dark Lord, who was moving on to step twenty three, the second victim. The second victim, who was to be made to see all the horrors inflicted on the first and believe that it was to be his fate as well.

_“Tu autem idem. Et vos eadem curatio merentur.”_ The Dark Lord and the God of the New World whispered together in their cold voices. “You are the same. You deserve the same.”

“Snape.” L breathed, horrified. The Dark Lord levitated a petrified Snape right above Draco’s body, dropping him suddenly into the carnage. The petrification wore off all of a sudden and Snape was wheezing and moaning, scrabbling to get off of the mutilated corpse but slipping in the blood. Light noticed with a start that the walls, the floors, everything except a tight circle around Voldemort’s legs was slathered in blood, the work of a manic artist. Light was pretty sure there was no need for that in the regular instructions. The Lord Voldemort was impressing him more and more.

“I am sorry, Severus, truly sorry for your fate. I sincerely believed Harry Potter would come. It seems I was mistaken.”

“My Lord, my Lord, please. I have been your faithful servant…” Snape fell to his knees beside the bloody gore of Malfoy, pressing his palms together as he grovelled. The Lord Voldemort was not moved.

“I am sorry, Severus. You have been a faithful servant indeed. However, you were in charge of Kira, and you managed to lose him. You did not think you would escape punishment, did you? _Silencio_.”

Anything further that Snape could have said was lost in the charm, and abruptly, a string of fire looped out of the tip of Voldemort’s yew wand, the Elder wand tucked neatly into the belt of his robe. The fire surrounded Severus Snape, hissing and crackling at him.

“I apologise once again, Severus, that you must die in such a muggle fashion, and not even at the hands of the Elder wand. Perhaps, if you had not been the owner, I would have bestowed the honour of being killed by the Deathstick on you, but fate has not been kind.”

Snape shook his head, clawing desperately to crawl his way out of the ring of fire. Light knew what was coming next, and so only heaved a sigh as the fire flared up, consuming the silent man as he convulsed and writhed. The smell of burning flesh filled the room, thick as mist. Beside him, L coughed, covering his nose. Harry disappeared behind him, joining the rest where they retched.

_“Deorum mortis, dolores inferni circumdederunt. Testimonium opus meum. Vocatis me dignus.”_ The two voices spoke together, one ringing with triumph, another muffled and wistful. “I call upon the Gods of Death. Witness my work. Call me worthy.”

“Raito.” L grabbed his upper arm tightly, his other hand still pressed tightly over his nose and mouth. “We must stop him before he creates the Horcrux.”

Hermione let out a ragged gasp. “But what can we do? He has protective charms around him and…”

Harry shuddered, his eyes far away. “I can’t enter his mind, but I know he’s weak. He’s a _lot_ weaker than usual with all the Horcrux making. But when Snape died, he took ownership of the Elder wand. It obeys him now.”

Light frowned at her as the Dark Lord began to cackle ominously. “No, none of us stand a chance anymore…unless…”

L shook his head. “No, Raito, it doesn’t work. When you were gone, we already tried stabbing the Note.”

“But I was dead, then, get it? Obviously, the book won’t protect itself by channelling power into a dead person…” Light stopped. Ownership. Ownership mattered now, if they wanted to replenish the power into his body instead of L’s…

No, they couldn’t channel it into L. He was Kira. Light was Kira, he was the one who they would channel it all into.

Obviously, L had caught onto this snag as well. He was giving Light a strange look, cocking his head to the side, his thumb pressed against his bottom lip. Hermione, next to him, was starting to panic.

“T-that’s Rem! Rem the Shinigami, she’s coming, she’s turning the room darker. We need a plan, guys! We can’t let him create another Horcrux!”

L reached under his sweatshirt and pulled out a slim black notebook. “Hermione. Stab the Note.”

Light made a grab the Death Note, but L ducked out of the way. “Give up ownership, L.”

L gave him a warning look as he backtracked out of Light’s vicinity. “It doesn’t matter who has the power, Raito, we’re all on the same side.”

Light gritted his teeth. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter, so give up ownership. It won’t change anything.”

L slipped behind Harry, peeking out. “Raito, the power is safer with me. You’re a wild card, remember?”

Hermione squeaked as Light grabbed L by the shirt and punched him square across the jaw as he reached for the Note. L responded by kicking him in the chest and crawling away, clutching the notebook to himself. Obviously, Light grabbed him by the pant leg and dragged him towards him, sinking his teeth into the detective’s wrist as he  attempted to wrest the book away. “Guys, hurry! She’s appeared, she’s appeared and…whoa. Shit! Shit, guys, _stop fighting!”_

Ron seized Light around the waist, hoisting him up off of L as the brunet kicked and snarled at the detective. L wiped the blood off of his chin, curling a lip at him. “Don’t be so selfish, Raito-kun.”

_“Selfish?_ It’s my notebook! It’s my powers, don’t you dare-”

“You are highly irresponsible with the powers you have, Raito-kun.”

Light growled at him, eyes flashing as he writhed to get out of Ron’s iron grip. “You know for a fact that I am more powerful than you are, L! The Sword will be more effective in me, you know that! I’m naturally better than you are, _you know that!”_

“Silencio!” Hermione jabbed her wand at the two of them, and though the spell didn’t work, the attempt was enough to get their attention. “You idiots! You bleeding idiots, look outside! Or even better, just listen!”

The two geniuses glanced at each other, and Ron let go of Light. The brunet cocked his head, listening.

The screeching voice he heard dropped a stone in his stomach.

_“Rem!_ You told me you’d be going where Raito is! You didn’t tell me you’re going to some _disgusting murder room!_ _Gross!”_

“Misa.” He breathed.

A wide, sinister smirk pulled at the edges of his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read somewhere that Misa Amane's name means something like "rock brought down from heaven" or something like that. I always liked her name!
> 
> Next chapter: Light is kind of an asshole.
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	43. Amane Misa

He was gone like a shot, and L didn’t know what to think.

Light had already proven his allegiance and trustworthiness several times, but that was his Kira smirk! There was no faking that smirk. What was he supposed to think? Did he resurface because L threatened the power dynamic? _Goddamn it, Light, why are you so damn fickle?_

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Light ducked under and past the invisibility cloak they had hung up like laundry over the entrance to the little cave just as the Lord Voldemort took the Death Note from Rem, grinning as she whispered her name in his ear.

 Light raised his wand and glancing over at Misa, who appeared to be crossing her arms and pouting as she stepped daintily over a splatter of blood. He didn’t know how she was here and he didn’t know why, but he did know that she was going to help him win.

“Stupefy!” He yelled, waving his wand madly in Voldemort’s general direction. _“Stupefy_ , you fucking psycho!”

Misa’s brown eyes widened to inhuman proportions. _“Raito!_ Raito, you _are_ here!”

His red flashes hit the protective barrier around Voldemort and fizzled out, but he succeeded in getting the Dark wizard’s attention. The bald man’s reflexes were extremely slow as he turned, his eyes narrowing as he recognised him. “Fulgari!”

Light ducked under the conjured ropes, nimbly rolling to the side. He knew the Elder wand was extremely powerful, much more powerful than Michael Corner’s black wand, and he had been prepared for that. “Misa! Misa, help me, take the Note from him!” He gasped breathlessly as he struggled to gain his balance on the slippery floor, moving as fast as he could towards the blond model. Enraged, the Dark Lord threw an _Avada Kedavra_ at him and his heart began to race. He didn’t know if the Elder wand would really be more powerful than his page of the Death Note (surely not, right? He didn’t just have a scrap now, he had a whole page!) but he wasn’t going to test it. He dodged it, feeling his hands go icy cold. “Misa, _hurry!”_

Misa, spurred by the fear in his voice, let out a shrill battle-cry and tackled the Dark wizard to the ground. “Don’t you dare hurt my Raito!”

“Misa Amane! Get your hands off of me!” The Dark Lord cried, whipping his wand in the air. Misa screamed in anger as he snarled at her. “You have plagued me for far too long. _Avada Kedav-”_

“Tom Riddle!” Rem bellowed, stopping him. “If you touch her, I will destroy you!”

“But _she’s_ touching _me!_ Give that back to me, insolent whelp!” Voldemort raked his claws over Misa’s arm as she wrenched off of him with surprising strength (Misa was a lot stronger than she looked, Light knew this from personal experience), vaulting over the dead bodies separating the Dark Lord from Light and shoving the Elder Wand and Rem’s Death Note into Light’s hands.

“Here you go, Raito! Kill him!”

Voldemort was incredulous. “Rem, what is this? What happened to our pact? How dare you break it? I will destroy her necklace if you don’t command her to give my wand and the Death Note back to me! I will _torture_ her!”

Light tipped back his head and let out a cackle. “Who’s torturing who, Voldemort?” He pointed the Elder wand at the gaunt wizard, remembering just how old and fragmented he was. Maybe he would have been a greater rival in his prime. Light didn’t particularly care. “Crucio!”

The Elder wand let out a steaming sizzle, and Light rolled his eyes. “Right, I forgot. I have to kill you to take ownership.”

At that, Voldemort made a mad dash towards Light, flying over the two dead bodies separating them and clawing desperately at the teenager for either of the weapons in his hands. Outraged, Misa bit his hand and the Dark Lord screamed in frustration.

“Mudblood, I will torture you! I will torture you the minute I get my wand back, I swear to you. No Death God can stop me!”

“You will do no such thing! You ugly old man!” Misa backed up and shot up her leg in an arc, kicking He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the nuts. “You are a useless ugly old stalker and nobody likes you!” The Lord Voldemort howled in pain as Light twisted away from him.

However, before Light could cast anything on him using his own black wand, there was a flash of silver in the corner of his eye, and a terrifying icy shriek from where a particular snake had been feasting on the flesh of Death Eaters.

“No! No!” The Dark Lord screamed, delirious. _“Nagini!”_

The snake lay headless in front of its pile of meat, a coil of dark smoke curling up from its stump as L threw the Invisibility cloak back, the Sword of Gryffindor gleaming proudly in one hand. Held equally proudly in the other was a walnut wand, carved with delicate silver rivulets, glowing with power.

_He didn’t._

Rage pooled in Light’s stomach as he glared at his one and only nemesis, who gave him an uncharacteristically wide grin, his dark hair wilder than ever from being mussed up under the cloak. Their staring match was both novel and extremely familiar, the detective’s smile slowly disappearing as amber eyes flashed hatefully into his inky orbs.

Beside him, the Lord Voldemort squeaked pathetically and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Light narrowed his eyes. “Accio Gryffindor’s Sword.” He jabbed the Elder wand at L, and it obeyed him, the sword spinning off of its axis as it sped towards him. He grabbed it in one hand and looked at Rem.

“This is your notebook, Rem?” He held up the black Note, and the great white Shinigami inclined her head, her dreadlocks shifting over her face.

“Indeed, Yagami Raito.”

“Raito, what are you doing? Stop being so childish.”  L drawled as the Golden Trio crawled out of the little cave, their mouths round.

“You guys just made Voldemort flee in terror!” Ron exclaimed. “Light, you were amazing! And Misa, bloody hell!”

Misa twirled, her face lighting up as she tossed her head. “Anything for my Raito!”

“Raito, listen.” L tried to get his attention, but Light was still fixed on the Shinigami. Slowly, deliberately, he dropped the notebook on the ground. Rem flinched but didn’t move.

“Whose notebook is it now, Rem?” Light tried to quell the smirk that grew on his lips, but Kira had never been very successful at stopping his smiles (or laughter) once he started them.

The Shinigami lazily closed her golden eye. “It is yours, now, Yagami Raito.”

“Misa. Hold me.” He commanded, and the blond model immediately came over, wrapping her arms around him with a huge smile.

“Gladly, my Raito! But why-”

Light’s eyes met L’s, and without breaking eye-contact for a second, he stabbed the book with the sharp edge of the Sword of Gryffindor.

It felt like a skewer had pierced him through, and he was reasonably certain that he was making an unearthly noise to the backdrop of Misa’s shrieks, but the power, the power was _addictive_ , and it was all his! The notebook was his, Gryffindor’s sword was his!

Soon enough, he was aware that the unearthly noise he was making was a laugh, his Kira laugh, joyous and ever so slightly maniacal. L’s eyes were so round that Light could see the whites all around the irises, and he relished it.

Ron came up behind him. “Light, mate, are you-”

Light tucked Michael Corner’s black wand in his belt and nestled the Elder wand in his hand. The aura around the accursed wand was not silver, unlike any other wand. This wand glowed with darkness, the tendrils entrenched in it coils of dark shadow, emitting the same kind of inky smoke out of its tip that a Horcrux gave out as it died. He stroked it with his thumb as he flipped casually through Rem’s (or rather, Light’s) Death Note.

“Raito-kun, this is not a competition. Don’t be so immature.” L’s voice was hard, wary, but when Light darted his icy glare at him, he seemed to almost wilt. The brunet felt another triumphant laugh come on, but he decided to postpone that to when he was done here.

He spun around to Misa and gathered her in his arms. “That was brilliant.”

Misa froze, letting out a faint gasp. “Raito?”

“ _You_ were brilliant, Misa. You were. I’m so very lucky to have you.” He gave her his most tender gaze and leaned in, pressing his lips against hers and tasting the sticky remains of her faded lipstick. She exhaled, her lips moving as she went to deepen the kiss. Light took only the smallest indulgent glances at the red-faced detective, who had turned still as a statue where he stood.

“Light Yagami, what the bloody fuck are you doing?” Someone grabbed Light’s shoulder and yanked him away from the blond girl, who stood there stunned, her eyes closed as she touched her lips with her fingertips. Light looked up to see Ron grasping his robes, his face so angry it wouldn’t have been farfetched to imagine steam rising from his fiery hair.

Light blinked, perfectly simulating being innocently at a loss as he stilled in Ron’s steel grip. “What, Ron? I’m kissing my girlfriend after she saved my life.”

The delight on Misa’s face after that statement could have outshone the sun. “Oh, Raitooo! Misa loves you too!”

Light bit his lip to keep from laughing. “See? We’re just really in love. Let go.” He said, tugging at the redhead’s grasp on the front of his robe. To Light’s absolute disbelief, he wasn’t letting go. His expression was smouldering, his blue eyes dark as he looked down at the brunet.

Light’s smile dropped, his eyes sharp. “Let go, Ron.”

It was only after Hermione came over and placed a hand firmly on his shoulder that he dropped Light and turned away, his face in a screwed-up grimace that was the polar opposite of L’s careful blankness.

He stepped back to Misa, who sighed dreamily. “Raito, Misa is so happy to see you.”

“As am I, Misa.” He buried his face in her strawberry-scented hair. “But you know what would make me happier?”

Misa’s brown eyes shone as if they were filled with stars. “What? Misa will do anything! Misa will even die for you!”

“No, no, no need for that.” Light drew back and nuzzled the side of her face, his lips touching the shell of her ear. His whisper tickled her neck and it was so soft he wasn’t sure L could hear it, even in the absolute silence that had descended over the Shrieking Shack.

“All Misa needs to do is tell me Rem’s true name.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Light, just go ahead exploiting everyone's love for you to soothe your own ego XD
> 
> Next chapter: Light's master plan comes to fruition!
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	44. Master Plan

Misa Amane was not stupid, no matter what everyone thinks. She wasn’t under the delusion that she was some sort of Einstein (or anywhere close to as smart as Raito) but she definitely wasn’t the dunce he and Ryuuzaki thought she was.

For one, she knew Raito didn’t love her. She knew exactly where the brunet’s heart was (no, she wasn’t oblivious to the sly glances they had shared on Misa’s dates when Ryuuzaki had been handcuffed to her Raito and followed him everywhere. She had caught every moment they completed each other’s sentences, shared their secret smiles. They had even quoted Shakespeare at each other once, remembering it made Misa want to puke).

Even in those initial days of the investigation, in the first few days after Misa and Raito recovered from their imprisonment (a torture that Misa had hoped would bring her closer to her Raito rather than further away), when the teenager had first been handcuffed to the detective, he hadn’t looked like any other boy whose freedom had just been compromised. He looked…complacent, even pleased. Misa had denied that for a long time, but there was no ignoring the truth.

She bet if Ryuuzaki kissed her Raito, he wouldn’t be so cold about it. Raito wouldn’t kiss him as if he was a robot openly focussed on getting her to do what he wanted her to.

But it was so easy to deny it, to ignore it when Raito was so skilled at it, saying exactly the right things to make her heart flutter, and with that _beautiful_ face, those snarky pink lips curved in a smirk, that glint in his mocha eyes, those high cheekbones, straight nose and perfect complexion that looked straight out of a magazine cover (if she ever asked her manager if she could secure a modelling job for Raito, Misa was sure the woman would seize with ecstasy).

But she knew who he was, so when he asked for Rem’s real name, she knew what was coming next.

 “R-Raito…”

Light tightened his hug, and she could smell his lemony scent. She savoured it while she could, it wasn’t often he was trying to agitate Ryuuzaki. “I know you know it, Misa. I know she has likely erased it from this notebook since I didn’t see your handwriting anywhere.” He nuzzled her hair again. “If I know it, I will be very happy, Misa. I will love you forever.”

He seemed to think she was really, really dense. Not that she could blame him. When it came to Yagami Raito, her brain just didn’t work as sharply as it did anywhere else.

Still, it stung.

“Well, Misa? I’m sure you remember it.” _Even you’re not that stupid._ The subtext was so obvious. Was he slipping? His manipulation was usually more discreet.

Well, if there was one upside to this, it was that this whole ordeal was just as painful to the great detective Ryuuzaki as it was to the model herself. The pale, gangly man stepped forward, and for once she could understand the expression on his face. _Hurt_.

She had _known_ the pervert had had designs on her Raito! It wasn’t something unconscious, it was very much explicit. Maybe it was as passionate as her own love, maybe he heard romantic songs in his head too, maybe he also laid in bed at night and dreamed of a moment when Raito would get on his knees, lit up golden by the sunset, and offer him a diamond ring.

_No, probably not._

“Raito-kun, please stop this. I’m sorry I didn’t give up ownership, alright?” He said in his deep monotone, but it was sharper than usual, like a guitar string wound too tight. She saw a flicker on Raito’s face…was that _exasperation?_ That wasn’t the right expression to have… (Misa had to consciously pop the bubble of hope in her chest. No, just because Raito didn’t seem to understand that Ryuuzaki was hurt didn’t mean he had suddenly developed feelings for Misa).

Rem, her great white Shinigami, the only entity (since her parents) she was sure loved her unconditionally, could see the conflict on her face, and came to Misa’s rescue, as always. “Yagami Raito, you are not authorised to know my name. If you keep pressing her…”

Light smiled sweetly at her. “You know who else isn’t authorised to know your name? Who obviously didn’t perform the ritual before you created a Horcrux for her?”

Misa’s heart pounded in her chest as the monster narrowed her purple-lidded eyes, her yellowed teeth bared. “You are aggravating me, Yagami Raito. If you do not stop, I will kill you now.”

Misa wished she didn’t feel that blind panic when she said that, she wished that the thought of living in a world without Light didn’t feel so dark. “No, Rem! Don’t kill him, please! Don’t kill Misa’s Raito!”

At her words, Light immediately cuddled her closer and brushed his lips over her temple, caressing her face. It reminded her of something she had heard Ryuuzaki and Raito mention during their frequent arguments (even their _arguments_ held more passion and sexual tension than Misa would ever get). It had been a term from Psychology: _Classical Conditioning._

Her boyfriend (if she could call him that) turned his piercing dark-gold eyes to the Shinigami. “I know Voldemort has Misa’s Horcrux. I know that’s why you made a pact with him in the first place and probably why you were willing to make him a Horcrux now. You should know he’s a traitor at heart, and he’ll definitely try to destroy it. The only way for you to save my precious girlfriend here is to let her tell me your name.” He raised an eyebrow cockily. “Or, you could just tell us yourself.”

Rem’s golden eye widened. “Us? What are you planning, Yagami Raito?”

Light glanced back at the group huddled behind them, the group he had left Shell Cottage with. Misa’s favourite snarky smile grew on Raito’s face, and it was lucky she remembered how much he disliked being interrupted or else she would have thrown herself at him. “Oh, it’s a pretty simple plan, Rem. I’m saving Harry Potter’s life.”

The boy with the messy black hair and nerdy glasses in the middle of the pack grew red. “H-how are you going to do that?”

Ryuuzaki stood still, his hunch prominent as he surveyed Raito with those sharp black eyes. “It’s quite obvious, isn’t it?” _Of course it would be to him._ Misa almost laughed. Almost.

Rem clenched her long white fingers, her dreadlocks falling over her face. “Misa cannot tell you my name, I have wiped her memory. And I cannot tell my name to more than one person, unless more than one person has performed the ritual. I have already revealed it to Tom Riddle.”

Light crossed his arms as Misa clung to him. “I’m sure you can, Rem. Or do you wipe your own memories too?”

That earned him a poisonous glare from the Shinigami. “I have had enough of your arrogance, Yagami Raito. You know what I mean.”

The smug brunet flicked his hair out of his eyes. “Yes. You’ll die if you tell us all.” Misa’s eyes widened as the blood drained from her face.

“I will.” The Shinigami said.

“But you said you’re more than willing to die for Misa’s life, didn’t you? Were you not serious when you made that claim?”

This was getting scary. Misa had never asked for the love of a Shinigami. Yes, Rem was annoying, but in the end she had helped her so much. She had brought her to this shack from the cottage when everyone had left to fight in the war, she had protected her when Raito was trying to kill her. Rem loved her…

Rem glared at him. “I was serious.”

 “In that case…” Light smirked. “You know already that Voldemort can’t be killed using a Death Note while he has Horcruxes keeping him anchored here. He is going to destroy Misa’s Horcrux, capture her and torture her before he kills her. I know for a fact he doesn’t like her very much. Does he like you, Misa?”

 “No...”

“Do you want to be tortured and killed, Misa?”

The dangerous tinge to his voice was so prominent that Misa picked it up easily. Was he still talking about what _Voldemort_ would do? “No, Misa doesn’t want that. She will do it for Raito, though…”

“But Raito doesn’t want that either, don’t you get it? Raito _loves_ his Misa.” And with that, Raito gave her the deepest, most tender kiss she had ever had from the brunet, his eyes closed as he brushed his lips over hers, looking to the whole world as if he adored her from the bottom of his heart and _what if he was telling the truth?_ What if he did love her? What if everything with Ryuuzaki was all in her head? “We have to destroy Voldemort’s last Horcrux before he does the same to Misa. We can only do that if Rem gives us her name.” He whispered into her mouth as he kissed her, and Misa could smell his perpetually minty breath, his words reverberating in her lips, making her tingle all over.

So, as always, she made her decision on the fly, the first words on the tip of her tongue. “R-Rem, _please_ give Raito your name. Please. He loves me!”

Rem sighed. “He doesn’t love you, Misa. He’s manipulating you, can’t you see?”

She _could_ see. She could see how that could be true, but _what if it wasn’t?_ She wasn’t unlovable, she knew she could make him love her, and there was nothing she wanted more in the world. “He does! He loves me and wants to protect me. I thought you wanted the same thing…”

Suddenly, Rem looked tired and older than a Shinigami could look while being an ageless God of Death. Misa almost stopped her, almost. “Very well, Misa. My name was Naciera Rema.”

The effect was immediate, the Shinigami’s toes began to turn to sand, but she refused to look down, keeping her one golden eye firmly on Light. “My name will work even though I will be dead, the Shinigami King assured us of this. Use it, and do not betray her, Yagami Raito. She loves you with a passion I cannot understand.” The golden sand began to spill from her torso and her dreadlocks. Soon enough, she looked grotesque, an ancient skull dug out of the beach, but her golden orb gradually tilted until it looked at Misa. A tender smile appeared on her disintegrating lips.

“Misa.” She breathed, and it was her last word before her lips fell away, a pile of yellow sand scattered on the bloody floor, sprinkled over the dead bodies of Malfoy and Snape.

Misa began to sob as Light immediately pushed her away, crowing his victory.

“Off, Misa. Get the fuck off of me, and don’t touch me again.”

Misa blinked up at him, trying in vain to dispel her tears. “Wha…Raito?”

He gave her a condescending smirk, his caramel eyes narrowed. “Are you honestly surprised? With all your tirades against stalkers, I’m surprised how much you lack self-awareness. So many months held hostage by a Shinigami and forced to date you under the threat of _death_. What do you call Ryuuzaki again? A pervert stalker, right?” He let out a short, humourless chuckle, his eyes narrowed over that awful smirk. He tilted his head to her. “A pervert stalker, Misa?”

Misa’s heart broke. “Raito, Misa isn’t a pervert stalker, she…she loves you. I love you, Raito, please don’t do this…”

Light ignored her completely, going up to Harry and opening the Death Note to a blank page. He picked up Voldemort’s discarded pen from where it lay in the disembowelled blond man’s guts, _scourgified_ it with his new jet-black wand and placed it in the groove between the pages. “Here you go, Potter. At your leisure.”

Harry was puzzled. “What am I supposed to do?”

Ryuuzaki kept his chin low, fringe disguising his expression, but his voice was clear and as monotonous as usual. Misa was glad he was so expressionless, she didn’t want to see what he was truly feeling. “According to Snape’s theory of how your Horcrux was created, the information given to Raito-kun by Ryuk, and my own research on the subject of Horcruxes once I learnt about them from Ron Weasley, we can see that souls function as physical objects do, fracturing when under immense pressure. Your soul has a part of Voldemort’s soul fused to it. A foreign object. Logically, it would make sense that on application of pressure, your soul cracks along the line of fusion.”

The bushy brown-haired girl turned white as a sheet. “You want him to make a Horcrux.”

“Yep!” Light said in a cheery voice Misa had never heard before.

“You want him to make a _Horcrux,_ to _split his soul_ …on an untested theory.”

“Yeah. Unless you have better ideas that don’t involve Harry Potter dying tragically at the age of seventeen. We’re all ears.”

Harry grabbed the notebook from Light. “Doesn’t it burn wizards anymore?”

Light shrugged. “I don’t know. But then you’re part Voldemort, and Rem gave Voldemort the permission to hold it. It doesn’t matter, anyway, just write Rem’s real name in there.”

The pen trembled in his hand. “W-wait. How will you check if my soul splits along the fusion line? Or if there’s a part of Voldemort still in me?”

Ryuuzaki crossed his arms. “It’s quite obvious. We check if you can still read his thoughts.”

“If this works, all we need to do is kill physical Voldemort.” Light sounded earnest, and Misa dipped her head, her butter-blond hair forming a curtain around her face.

The brunette, Hermione, looked doubtful. “Harry…don’t do this unless you’re sure.”

Harry glanced up at her through his round glasses. “I asked Dumbledore’s portrait. I’m sure it’s either this or my death. This is the only way, I guess. We have to try.”

Ron, the redhead wizard, twisted his hands together apprehensively. “Harry, you’ll be splitting your soul.”

“Along the fusion line.” Ryuuzaki corrected, sounding slightly annoyed.

Harry shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. If I die, I die. My soul’s already been messed with, so whatever.” He gulped and shrugged again. “What vessel do I choose? I want to put my soul in something breakable, like my glasses or something, so it’ll be easier for you guys.”

“How about my heart?” Misa’s warbling voice came from the depths of her throat, despondent. “Why don’t you just put your Horcrux in Misa’s heart and kill her? She doesn’t want to live anymore.”

There was a tense pause, and Light shrugged. “Not a bad idea.”

Rem had died for her, the only person in the world who had ever loved her, and this man was telling her it didn’t matter. He was telling her he didn’t care if she lived or died.

“Raito…” L’s voice sounded like a warning, but Misa knew he was probably seconds away from suppressing a smile. _Of course he was, he had won._

“Why not, L? I mean, you heard her.” Light rolled his eyes, and the model realised that she had only felt this depth of fury once before: when a thief had killed her parents and spared her life, leaving her a broken orphan ready to attach to anybody, _anybody_ else.

Light turned away from her as he pulled a piece of paper from the pocket of his scarlet robe. “Here, I think this is Longbottom’s. This should do-” He was cut off when Misa threw herself at him, wild as a stray cat, her teeth bared as she went for his face. Her nails tore at the silky skin of his cheek, engraving three brutal red lines, and his cry of pain was drowned out by her shrill squeal.

She felt the air rush out of her as someone grabbed her by the shoulders and flipped her around, slamming her into the ground in a complicated martial arts manoeuvre she had only ever seen in movies. She opened her eyes to the utter _fury_ on Ryuuzaki’s face, his face twisted like she had never seen before, and _she had been a fool_. She had been a complete idiot. Everything, she had messed up everything, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault for thinking she was stupid because she was.

The shame bubbled in her in the form of anger. _She had sacrificed Rem for nothing_. She grabbed hold of Raito’s robe from where Ryuuzaki held her and yanked him off balance onto the detective. L released Misa to catch him and Misa immediately took advantage of that (that, and the fact that while Ryuuzaki was very much at ease with kicking a girl, Raito was much more reluctant to do so).

She grabbed Raito’s smooth coffee-brown hair, dragging him forward and aiming to slap him across the face. Another person, Ron, caught her hand in a tight grip and attempted to wrench her out of the way, but one of Ryuuzaki’s kicks caught the redhead at the jaw and he couldn’t help but sock him right back, leaving Misa clear to make a grab for the Elder wand that Raito held so tightly in one hand.

She knew he hadn’t expected her to go for it because she whisked it out relatively easily, stumbling out of the scuffle and tripping over a dead body, falling onto her rump in a pool of blood, her foot squishing into some guts. Disgusted, she reflexively pointed her wand at the mess, and to her horror, all of the guts disappeared, leaving only the husk of a body behind.

The brown haired girl and Harry squealed seeing this, and there was a white flash that had her limbs going stiff where they were tangled in the blond man’s now-empty abdomen. Misa tried to move, but she was stuck where she was, immobilised.

Light’s voice was shrill, a far cry from his usual smooth velvet. “The Elder wand! She took the Elder wand!”

Ryuuzaki was far calmer, gruff from the fight but tinged with amusement when Light’s uncharacteristic disarray sank in. “Don’t worry, Raito-kun. I petrified her.”

“B-but she just used it! How can she use it, she doesn’t have a piece of the Death Note!”

Ryuuzaki hummed in consideration as he ambled into Misa’s line of vision, easily plucking the wand from her tight grasp and giving her what looked like a mocking smile (though who could really tell, with Ryuuzaki’s expressions?). “I am really not sure, Raito. She definitely doesn’t have a piece, I am sure of that.”

Harry made a faint noise where he stood. “I…I think I know what happened.”

Ryuuzaki turned away from Misa to look at the speaker. “Yes, Potter?”

“Well…Dumbledore’s portrait told me his plan with the Elder wand. He had wanted ownership to go to Snape, since it was Dumbledore’s before he died. Well, now his portrait thinks it actually went to Draco, since Draco disarmed him before Snape killed him. Well, whoever it was, Voldemort just killed them both right here…” Harry seemed to stop to make a choking noise. “Yeah, so…it was his…until Misa disarmed him just now by taking it from him and kicking his arse.”

Raito groaned. “So it’s Misa’s then?”

Harry made a sound of assent. “It’s the most powerful wand in the world. I guess it can Vanish a few guts on its master’s request, muggle or not.”

Ryuuzaki regarded Misa with new eyes, his expression pensive. “So, it _was_ Misa’s…”

Raito took in a sharp breath. “Fuck it, Ryuuzaki.” He sighed. “Why do you keep one-upping me?”

Ryuuzaki got that smug little smile on his face, and Misa wished she could move so that she could kick him on the nose. _Oh, if Rem was here…_

Ryuuzaki looked away from her, and she knew he was looking at Raito because of the softness of his eyes, despite the smugness, despite the monotone, despite everything.

“I suppose, Raito-kun, you should stop trying to catch up. You only end up making it worse for yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, even though he's a massive jerk most of the time, Light is the most adorable character I've ever had to write XD
> 
> Next chapter: THE CLIMAX aka THE FINAL BATTLE OF HOGWARTS aka THE INFAMOUS EXPELLIARMUS AS I EXPEL-THE-PLOT SCENE (I can't believe we're here already!)
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	45. Avada Kedavra

Luna Lovegood expected the war to be gorier than it was.

Death Eaters had always been underrepresented in the papers. Luna knew they were likely part of the Horcrux creation process (cannibalism was a great part of Horcrux creation and they were called _Death Eaters_ , it was quite obvious, really), which meant they had to be cruel, bloodthirsty human beings. Who else could willingly eat someone else for the splitting of their Lord’s soul? (Perhaps a fanatic or something, she could never tell with the religious types).

Anyway, right now, she was spending her time sitting around with Neville, helping heal the injured and generally acting like busy-bodies, shooing away the students younger than seventh-year to Hogsmeade where they would be safe (not that Luna was doing much of that. She didn’t like telling people what to do). Everyone was rushing about, a clear contrast to what had been happening half an hour ago (they had been settled around in little packs, butterbeer and firewhiskey in hand). It was quite suspicious, actually.

Neville thought so too, casting a hurried _Episkey_ on a Ravenclaw with a broken ankle and turning to Luna. “What’s happening? Let’s go outside!”

Luna didn’t feel averse to the idea. Going outside did make sense. Sure, the war had been paused for close to three hours at this point, but who knew what Voldemort was thinking? He could start the war in a jiffy, and then Luna would have to hurry to whip her wand out instead of gaze around and absorb the surroundings.

When they made it outside, Luna was proven right. Death Eaters surrounded the entrance to the castle in a semicircle, blocking any form of escape, Dementors floating like the decorations her father had hung up the Christmas after her mother died, and a couple of giants standing like pillars around the Death Eaters, as if they needed some way to reinforce the fact that they had the better army. Luna knew Voldemort was a volatile one! It was weird how he hadn’t told them that he was about to attack, he had done it before and it suited his overly dramatic personality…

 _“Hogwarts! It is time you listen to reason. If you do not surrender now, I shall destroy this castle and everyone in it. Harry Potter is dead!”_ There you go. His voice slithered into their minds, sounding raspy and high, but there was something off about it, something dead, as if he had just come home after a long day and was preparing to stay up all night.

“No!” Ginny screamed from behind Luna, hurrying to the front of the ever-expanding crowd of students and teachers. “No, he can’t be!”

Professor McGonagall strutted her way to the apex of the crowd, her back straight and chin raised. “This is a pathetic lie, Voldemort. If he was dead, you would display his body.”

“Silence!” Voldemort screeched, raising a pale, slender hand as he glided in front of his Death Eaters. McGonagall and Voldemort faced each other, the leaders of opposing armies preparing for battle. “Professor McGonagall, what a pleasant surprise. I have always respected you. Do join my side. You would make a fine Half-Blood Death Eater.”

McGonagall gave him a thin, condescending smile, her eyes flashing through her glasses. “If you were thrust into my care as a child, Voldemort, I would have given you a stern talking to about manners and common sense.”

Somehow, that angered Voldemort like nothing else. “Bring out the boy!” He whipped his hand at the Death Eaters, who slowly levitated a blackened, charred body above them, the face unrecognisable. The only part of it spared the vicious charring was a tuft of black hair and the round glasses jammed over his nose.

McGonagall’s eyes widened, but she held her ground, her mouth stern. “Y-you killed him?”

Ginny shoved past Luna, knocking the blonde off balance in her terror. “No! No, Harry, Harry!” She tumbled her way to McGonagall, who pushed the girl behind herself, covering her with her body. _“Harry!”_ The teenager wailed.

Luna shrugged. “It’s a fake.”

Neville turned his round eyes to her. “What?”

Luna gestured to the suspended corpse that was now rising above their heads. “There aren’t any wrackspurts around his head. Harry always had wrackspurts. I mean, unless he’s been dead months, they’re not going to get them out of there so easily.”

Neville gaped. “Luna, this isn’t the time for nonsense! Listen, if you’re telling the truth-”

“I am telling the truth, Neville. Don’t worry. Harry’s going to turn up soon enough, with the Veneficus.”

“V-Veneficus? What the bleeding fuck is that?”

Luna smiled. “You’ll see. He’s quite good at entrances, you know.”

McGonagall, meanwhile, had gone very still, shielding the grieving Ginny from view as Voldemort strutted about. “You see? Harry Potter is dead. He was just a weakling boy who had everybody else sacrifice themselves for him. Now, I must insist you make your decision quickly. Your survival depends on your willingness to bow down to me as your lord and saviour.”

McGonagall looked disgusted, looking down at him from her poker-straight posture. “Lord and saviour? Did nobody teach you humility, Voldemort?”

Voldemort sneered, and it was a grotesque sight. “Professor McGonagall, I must urge you to review your opposition to me. Your students’ lives depend on it.”

The Death Eaters behind him hooted with laughter, and Voldemort looked pleased.

McGonagall looked back at the crowd of students, as if wondering if he had a point. Neville couldn’t have let her waver, of course. He ran forward, wand upraised, spurring Ginny into action behind McGonagall. The two of them spun around and threw curses at Voldemort, who deflected them easily with his yew wand and cast an _Incarcerous_ on the two of them. This, of course, enraged McGonagall, who transfigured the ropes into striped candy canes that clattered off of the two Gryffindors.

“Enough! If nobody steps forward immediately, I shall assume your answer is death!” Voldemort’s voice was almost a squeak in his rage.

Luna frowned, crossing her arms. “He’s in an awful hurry.” She muttered.

Neville spat at Voldemort’s feet. “People die every day. Yeah, we lost Harry tonight. We lost Tonks, Lupin, countless others. But they didn’t die in vain! They didn’t die for nothing, but you will, because you’re wrong! It’s not over!”

At that, every student gathered outside Hogwarts simultaneously pulled out their wand and pointed it at the Death Eaters. Voldemort bared his teeth. “Very well, that is your answer then. Charge!”

The Death Eaters surged forward as Voldemort slashed his wand at McGonagall, beginning a duel. The old woman held her own, but Neville and Ginny began to assist her anyway, their wands flashing with green and red lights. Luna sighed, pulling her own wand out and preparing to throw a well-aimed _Confringo_ at a nearby Death Eater…

But as she had predicted, she didn’t have to.

Suddenly, scores of Death Eaters clutched at their hearts, keeling over and falling dead like dominoes, tripping up the people behind them. Students preparing to duel lowered their wands, bemused. The Death Eaters knelt beside their fallen comrades and began to panic. Voldemort glanced back at the commotion, eyes boggling, and McGonagall took the chance to hit him with a powerful Stupefy. It was too bad he was a strong wizard, he was barely fazed, but it snapped him out of his stupor.

“Kill them! Kill them all!” He shrieked, throwing an Avada Kedavra at McGonagall that she just managed to dodge. “Kill them all!”

Another dozen Death Eaters collapsed, huffing out their last breaths in a collective sigh, and with that, the giants and Dementors retreated, abandoning Voldemort’s army and fleeing to the hills. Voldemort whipped around to face them. “No!” He screamed, however futile the sentiment was. “Come back! Do not retreat!”

“Actually, that may be the best option for you, Voldemort.”

Voldemort whipped around to face a pale young man slouching casually in the middle of the carnage, both hands stuffed casually in the pockets of his blue jeans. He raised one hand, which was wrapped around a glowing silver Elder wand, and bit at his thumbnail.  

Luna squealed in excitement. “The Veneficus!”

“You dare steal my wand and use it against me!” Voldemort cried out, furious. L shrugged, chewing at the end of his nail.

“It’s my wand now. I’m sorry about the massacre, it was all Raito-kun’s idea. I suppose after seeing him nearly die several times at the hands of your followers, I am getting a bit lenient.” He regarded his surroundings, contemplative. “Though…I must say it was effective.”

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

_“Petrificus Totalus.”_

The beams of light, green and white, met in the middle of the field, equally matched. Luna sighed, the Veneficus may have been powerful but he didn’t know shit about magic. Petrificus Totalus was hardly a charm of the calibre of Avada Kedavra. Expelliarmus would have been a much better choice.

L didn’t seem bothered by it, looking vaguely bored as he held his wand straight, back hunched. He seemed to roll his eyes, his pale face lit whiter in the light of the Body-Bind charm.

“Raito-kun!” He called out, and there was a rustling beside the pair. From under the Invisibility cloak right beside L (Luna couldn’t believe she hadn’t spotted the wrackspurts there before this!) popped Harry Potter, who threw a crimson jet of Expelliarmus at Voldemort.

The Dark wizard was able to counter it just on time with another wand he whipped out of his robe, the wand that had belonged to Draco Malfoy (Luna could have recognised that ivory handle anywhere, it was so pretty). Voldemort was faced off against two attackers now, fighting them off with twin beams of green, and it must have been truly painful because soon into the fight the Dark Lord began to utter the most inhuman kind of bellow, his skeletal body shivering in his velvet robes.

He wasn’t relenting, though, he was fighting off the Elder wand and the Boy-Who-Lived at the same time, and his body shone with light, the magic straining to release from him. He began a second round of wailing, but it was mid-scream when a loud, jarring bang was heard and Voldemort crumpled to the ground, silent.

Both L and Harry lowered their wands and glared at the person who had just exited the invisibility cloak. Light Yagami, in all of his handsome glory, blew at the stream of smoke coming from the pistol in his hands and winked at L, scarlet robes swishing cockily. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t kill him.”

Luna shouted in delight. “They’re _both_ here! Both Venefici!” The students around her goggled at her as she vibrated with ecstasy. “They’re saving us!” She hollered, getting everyone’s attention, including her beloved Venefici, who both gave her strange looks before turning back to the gangly man on his deathbed. L grabbed both of Voldemort’s wands from his hands and searched his robes.

“Well, Potter? You have a prophecy to fulfil.” Light called.

Harry Potter stepped forward, his holly wand with the phoenix core pointed right at Voldemort’s brain. “You made me into a Horcrux, Riddle. You forced me to split my soul.”

“Along the fusion line. It turned out fine, didn’t it?” L grumbled beside him.

Harry gave him a glance. “Yeah, but still. It was a risk, and it was all because of Riddle here. You killed my parents, Riddle. You killed so many people.”

Voldemort snarled as the tip of Harry’s wand touched his forehead, his clawed hands clenched over his bleeding shoulder.

Harry lowered his eyes, his glasses flashing in the light. “I’ve seen what you become, after death. This is your final chance to repent.”

 _“What?”_ Light yelped, and L dug his elbow into the boy’s stomach.

“What have I taught you about criminal reformation, Raito?”

“But, L!” The brunet spluttered. “L, he’s not just a criminal! He’s magical Hitler!”

“Even magical Hitler deserves a second chance, Kira-kun.” L smiled fondly, giving the disgruntled Light another elbow to the stomach.

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Well, Tom? What will it be?”

Voldemort licked his lips. “If…if you let me live, I’ll be put in Azkaban?”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, you killed thousands.”

Voldemort contemplated. “Hmm…yes, I think I’ll live, thanks.”

Light threw up his hands. “All of his Death Eater friends will be there! They’ll just start it all over again! Harry, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Harry turned his gaze to the Original Veneficus. “When you created my Horcrux and killed it, I went into a trance, remember? I met Dumbledore in my head, and he showed me Riddle. He’s…some sort of flayed baby in the afterlife, bleeding and forever in pain...Dumbledore told me all fates are reversible. If you save enough lives, you can cancel the karma of your kills. He’s a detestable human being, but nobody deserves that fate.”

Ron suddenly appeared on the scene, tossing the invisibility cloak off of himself and Hermione. “What about the prophecy, Harry? Neither can live while the other survives!”

Harry chewed his lip. “I’m pretty sure the prophecy applied to my Horcrux, Ron. I ‘died’ when you killed my Horcrux. Now I’m alive and wholly myself, and so is Voldemort here. All his Horcruxes are destroyed, after all. And technically, I’ve already defeated the Dark Lord. I’m saving Tom Riddle.”

“I can’t believe this.” Ron and Light groaned simultaneously, sharing a look before rolling their eyes at the Boy-Who-Lived.

McGonagall came up behind them, patting Harry on the back. “We can put him in Nurmengard, in Grindelwald’s old cell.” She smiled under her glasses, her hand squeezing his shoulder tight. “You are a selfless boy, Harry Potter. A boy of miracles. Dumbledore was always right about you, not that I doubted him for a second.”

The Transfiguration professor cast an _Incarcerous_ and an _Expelliarmus_ on Voldemort, making sure he was secured where he was. She twirled her wand, her cat patronus pawing up into the air and speeding away.

Grinning and following her lead with the rest of the student population, Luna created her long-eared hare and let it fly, looking at how many wrackspurts were floating out of people’s ears with their Patronuses, giving the world an unearthly glow.

“The Allies of the Order are alerted, as is the uncorrupted side of the Ministry.” McGonagall announced as her Patronus returned. “The Dark Lord is conquered!”

Luna watched with a grin as Neville pumped his fists in the air and grabbed Ron and Hermione in bone-crushing hugs. Ginny dived into Harry’s arms and gave him a smack across the cheek for scaring her. McGonagall raised her arms to the sky and the remains of the Dark Mark in the evening sky disappeared with a wisp of wind, replaced by a bright, shining full moon that lit the grounds silver. She watched as L and Light smirked at each other, Light wrapping his arms around L’s waist as the black-haired man cupped the brunet’s face and drew him in for a kiss. Luna laughed as Light groped L’s butt and the detective yelped, dialling up the aggression of the kiss as revenge.

“Hey, Luna! Come over, we’ve got butterbeer!” A Ravenclaw, Cho Chang, called out, the girl’s swan patronus fluttering around Luna and flapping its enormous wings. The group of Ravenclaws held up their bottles, giving her a cheer and waving her over.

Luna cocked her head as her hare sniffled at their Patronuses and made them all smile.

“No thank you, I’d much rather look at the sky.” The white-blond girl yelled back, and Cho nodded, giving her a little salute.

Luna turned back to the sky, which was truly fascinating. A dusky violet, now, with the sun merely an orange flicker against the horizon, the full moon McGonagall had transfigured washing the fields with its white light, the air sparkling with the dust of the Patronuses as well as the wrackspurts that flew out of everyone, spinning off into nowhere with every whoop of joy.

It was over. The Second Wizarding War was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's most definitely not over, I have a lot of wrapping up to do XD
> 
> Review me! I'm really grateful for you guys, you make my day with every comment :D


	46. Firewhisky

It only took five minutes after being secured by the Aurors for the former Dark Lord to let out an agonised cry, clench his bound hands over his heart and collapse onto the floor of the Thestral-driven cage. The Aurors (as well as the rest of the school) rushed to him, peering between the bars, and let out a collective gasp.

“Dead, he’s dead!”

Peeves, the resident poltergeist, danced along in the air as the Aurors opened up the cage to check on the skeletal form on the floor. “Voldy’s gone mouldy! Voldy’s gone mouldy!”

Light Yagami held up his palms as L gave him a wary look. “Yes, I know it looks suspicious, but I gave you the Death Note right after I finished using it. It wasn’t me.”

L raised his eyebrows over narrowed eyes, squaring his jaw. “Raito-kun…”

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a loud, grating cackling above them. The students of Hogwarts craned their necks up and screamed, louder than they had when Voldemort had first whispered to them at the beginning of the Battle of Hogwarts (as they were now calling it). Light gritted his teeth together as he looked up at the towering black monster with the reedy arms and feathery back, that inhuman grin stretching his purple lips. “Ryuk.”

“Light-o, interesting as always!” Ryuk cackled, slipping his Death Note back into his furry Goth attire (Light really didn’t want to think about where he was putting it, he was so glad he had tricked _Rem_ out of her notebook. She was at least likely to be hygienic). “Loved the way you ended that war, I knew adding you in was a good idea!”

Light rolled his eyes. “Your contract is over now, isn’t it? Now that Voldemort’s dead?”

“Yep! All thanks to you and your Horcrux destruction. Voldemort wasn’t half as interesting to watch as you, Light-o, magic and all. You sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Ryuk waggled his eyebrows, making several students behind them retch.

Light shook his head emphatically. “Take us home and get the fuck out of Earth, please. I’m sure the rest of the Shinigami miss you.”

Ryuk cackled again. “There’s the sass. Voldy was just way too polite about this whole thing. I think it gave me indigestion. Hey, um, would you happen to have any apples on you?”

The brunet raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, sure, we’re just carrying around baskets of apples in the middle of the war. Cut the crap and _take us home_ , Ryuk.” The students surrounding them let out a hushed “oooh” at that, making L snicker.

Ryuk leered. “Well, you see, I could take you home…but I don’t have to.”

Light felt a spike of rage go through him. He loped to the Shinigami and faced him down, his hands in tight fists. “Oh, don’t you pull this, Ryuk. You swore to take us home and be done with it the minute Voldemort is dead-”

The Shinigami backed away a little. “Light-o, cool it. I said I’d leave you alone and I meant it. As for taking you home, I don’t have to, because you’re already home.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Light growled. Ryuk tried to hold it in, but the cackle burst out anyway.

“You’re not in another dimension, Light-o. This is your world, just in England.” Ryuk chortled. “I lied to both you _and_ Riddle, and Rem played along because she’s super nice to me. Speaking of which, did you _have_ to kill her? I was getting her to go out with me.”

This time, it was L that let loose. “ _What?_ Why would you do something like that?”

Ryuk ran a tongue over his sharp, shiny teeth. “She is a very attractive Shinigami, okay? Or, she was.”

L pursed his lips. “No, I _meant_ why would you lie?”

“Well, because if I didn’t you’d just take a plane home. Duh. I needed my entertainment, _Lawliet.”_

L turned a sickly shade of green as Light processed that. “Low-Light?” The brunet tested, and the black-haired man immediately stooped down to pick up a sizeable rock.

“Fuck off, Ryuk! Bastard Shinigami! Fuck you! Go back to hell! You monster!” The detective shrieked, throwing the rock with all his strength at the Shinigami. Unfortunately, it simply passed through him and nearly decked one of the students behind him before Professor Sprout levitated it out of the way.

“Okay, okay.” Ryuk unfurled his bat-like wings. “You don’t have to tell me twice. You have a worse temper than Light-o does, _Lawliet_.” With a leering grin, he flapped his wings and shot up into the night sky, but not before snatching the Elder wand from L’s hands.

L trembled where he stood, his every muscle taut. He glared up at the skies as if ready to follow the Shinigami up and pummel him right back to Earth. Light bit his lip, trying not to smile. “The Frenchman Lawliet. I’m starting to get why knowing you were the English Junior Tennis Champion didn’t really matter.”

L stalked back to Light, his expression murderous. “This is no laughing matter, Yagami-kun. I revealed my identity here thinking it was a separate dimension. I did not expect the Shinigami to _lie._ And then reveal my _actual name.”_

Light shrugged. “Look, L, chill out, okay? It might as well be a separate dimension. Nobody’s even heard of Kira here, why would they have heard of L?”

“What about the muggle-borns, Raito-kun? What if they go home and look me up-”

Light stopped him with a laugh, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. “Oh, there’s an easy solution for that.” He left the pale detective standing there in an unusually pronounced slouch and went over to consult with Professor McGonagall, who had been watching them with a faintly amused smile as she supervised the Aurors capturing all the Death Eaters that were still on the premises.

Soon enough, all the students in L’s vicinity were blinking at him, frowning as if they had forgotten some interesting incidental fact about the black-haired man.

Light jogged over, grinning. “Called in a favour as the saviour of the Wizarding realm. Figured since Voldemort’s Obliviate didn’t erase everything in my memory, the Professors could probably find some way to erase one word from people with the same concept.”

L gripped his elbows, pensive. Light pulled him close with one arm. “Hey, they don’t remember it anymore. Don’t worry, L.”

 _“Don’t worry_ , Yagami-kun? My identity is compromised! They know my face now!”

Light mused. “Yeah. I asked McGonagall about that, she said it was too dangerous to mass-wipe your face from their memories too. She could wipe your name because it was recent.” He wrapped his arm tighter around the detective’s bony shoulders. “Seriously, though, L. They’re wizards. Muggle stuff doesn’t matter to them. And I promise I’ll keep you safe, okay? If I have to _Avada_ my way through a ninja assassination squad I will.”

L considered that. “You’re right, Raito. It is not a calamity as long as they do not know my real name.”

Light smirked. “You don’t seem half as concerned about _me_ knowing your real name.”

“Oh, I am, believe me.” L shuddered. “But then I’m used to risking my life for your sake.” He paused. “I’m not joking, though, Raito. _Never_ reveal my name to _anybody_.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Light said. L gave him a grateful smile, slipping his fingers into the brunet’s silky hair. “Besides, I don’t know your last name so the information isn’t all that useful.”

L grinned wryly. “Oh, but you do.”

“Sorry, what?”

L nuzzled Light’s neck. “You do know my last name.”

Light shrugged. “Fine, I know one of your names. Jeez, it’s the same thing. Unless you’re a celebrity, I don’t see how knowing only your last name could help any more than just your first.”

 _“No,_ Raito.” L laughed a truly happy laugh, making Light smile by default. “You know both my names.”

Light bit in a laugh and leaned in to whisper out of earshot of the students surrounding them. “Don’t tell me, your name is Ryuuzaki Lawliet.”

L smiled, and his breath tickled Light’s ear. “L Lawliet.”

“You’re kidding.” Light looked disbelievingly at the grinning detective. “You’re _kidding_. Your name is a letter? _One_ letter?” He shook his head. “That’s _genius_. I’m so glad I didn’t make the deal for Shinigami eyes. It would have been heartbreaking.”

“Really, Raito? You’re going to reference Kira after I give you my real name?”

“Hey, I’ve got to keep you on your toes.” Light elbowed him playfully.

L bit his thumbnail. “The Golden Trio will be happy to hear where the Elder wand went.”

Light chuckled. “Speaking of the Golden Trio…” Ron and Hermione bounded over, hollering and covered in sweat. Ron wore an old black witch’s hat over his new red robes while Hermione had tied back her frizzy brown hair with a Hufflepuff’s black-and-yellow striped scarf.

“Guys, guys! I heard a great big Shinigami appeared and told you it’s abandoning you here!” Hermione called as she stopped beside L and grabbed his arm to keep her balance. Her breath was a cloud of alcohol. She looked more than tipsy, it seemed they had been free with the firewhisky near the Gryffindor table.

“Good thing too!” Ron exclaimed. “I wanted you to stay.” He leaned over and gave Light a slobbery kiss on the cheek. Light chuckled, steadying the redhead.

“How many gallons did you drink, Ron?”

Ron shrugged. “I wasn’t counting. Aberforth is sponsoring us! Join the firewhisky party!”

Hermione whooped and dragged L along behind her. “You need a drink!” She declared. L tried protesting, looking pleadingly back at Light.

“I don’t drink, Hermione! It messes with my metabolism!”

“Metabolism, shmetabolism. We just defeated Voldemort! Seven years of hard work and it’s all over! It’s over, _whoo!”_ She cheered, and several people at the scarlet Gryffindor table (who weren’t all Gryffindors, Light noticed) cheered right back, pumping their fists in the air.

 “Ron, Ron, I’m coming, God.” Light laughed as he was shoved along by the redhead. “You’re really, really drunk.”

“Yessss, I’m really drunk.” Ron gave him a vacant grin and proceeded to leer at him. “And you’re really, _really_ pretty. Like you shouldn’t even be a bloke.” He blinked at him, musing for a second. “You _are_ a bloke, aren’t you? I’m confused, because I’m not actually gay but like I’m gay for you.”

Light narrowed his eyes. “Okay, that wasn’t necessary.”

Ron stopped still, swerving around to face Light (with minimal stumbling), his cheeks flushed scarlet. “No, no, Light, don’t worry, I’m not insulting you. Don’t be insulted.” He cupped Light’s cheek. “Don’t be insulted.” He drew in, brushing his lips against Light’s. He tasted slightly bitter and sweet at the same time, the effect of the firewhisky he had had gallons of and _wait a second oh my fucking god_.

Light whipped back, putting his hands out in front of him. “Okay, you’re drunk and happy and everything so I’ll let this go, but _boundaries_ , Ron.”

Ron looked disappointed. “ _Please_. I’m better than _L_. Come on, you said it yourself. I’m fun and stuff. And I’m good at…stuff.”

Light groaned, exasperated. “We’ve already had this conversation, let’s please not have it again.”

“But _Light_ …” Ron whined. Light rolled his eyes, grabbing his arm and dragging him along.

“Come on, Ron. Let’s join the others.”

“But _Light_ , I love you!”

Light froze, turning back to face the redheaded wizard, who was growing redder by the second. “Ron, you are absolutely shitfaced, you are going to be fucking embarrassed of yourself tomorrow. Just come on, already.”

Ron refused to budge, so Light gave up on him. “Fine.” He said, raising his palms. “Fine, come when you want. I’m not cut out for this.”

“But I’m telling the truth! Light, I love you, and I’m not afraid to say it! I _love_ you!”

Light let out a vexed breath as he walked off. Ron didn’t stop though, hollering at him at the top of his lungs. “I love you! I’m not afraid! I love you, Light! Don’t ignore me!”

He finally reached the Gryffindor table, sliding in and grabbing a bottle of firewhisky. Its previous owner, a redhead who looked extremely familiar (wait, wasn’t this the guy whose life he saved? Ron’s brother?) watched amusedly as Light took a deep swig. The drink lived up to its name, it burned a line down his oesophagus and had him coughing as the Weasley patted him hard on the back.

“Which light does your name refer to, Yagami? Light _bulb_ or light _weight_?” His neighbour surveyed him with bright blue eyes. “I’m leaning towards the latter.”

Several people around the two of them groaned loudly, including another redhead who looked…exactly like the guy next to him.

“Come off of that, Freddie. It was a shitty pun.”

Freddie shrugged, clapping Light over the shoulder. “Hey, don’t tell me you weren’t tempted. Never introduced myself to you, did I, Light? I’m Fred Weasley.”

 Light shook his hand firmly. “Light Yagami.” He smiled. “…The bulb light.”

“Good to know. That means you get your own shot of firewhisky, in honour of saving my life. To Lightbulb Yagami for sacrificing and resurrecting himself like the bloody second coming of Christ!”

“Cheers!” The people around the table (several Hufflepuffs, Fred’s twin and a single Slytherin) raised their glasses and downed them. Fred passed a shot to Light, who grimaced, prepared himself and slurped it down. This time, the burning was less of a surprise, and he even managed to separate out a particular sour taste from it.

“You sure look like you enjoyed that.” Fred’s twin remarked from the other side of the table. “George, by the way. Saint George, they call me.” He pointed at the side of his face, where his ear was missing, the hole in his head covered by his thick red hair. “Get it? Saint? Holy? Hole-y?”

“The joke wasn’t funny the first time, George, and it isn’t getting better the more times you say it.” The Hufflepuff next to George, a pretty dark-skinned girl with a scar down her cheek, said. Fred agreed emphatically, making George roll his eyes.

Fred poured out another shot of firewhisky, sharing a look with George. “Anyway, Light. It seems you’re one of the saviours of the world, and you’re sleeping with our brother even though you’re _vastly_ out of his league. That makes you eligible for a little _interrogation_ , as we call it in the Burrow.”

Light sighed, aggravated. “Ron told you I’m sleeping with him?”

George shrugged. “Actually, he was talking about Percy, but Ron works too.”

Light stared blankly at them as the table erupted into laughter. Fred clapped him on the back again, passing him a shot. “He’s kidding, he’s kidding. No, Ron didn’t tell us. We _inferred_.”

“See? Told you he’s out of his league.” George declared. Fred shook his head remorsefully.

“And he dumped Hermione for you and everything. How heartless of you, Light Yagami. She was like his only shot at a decent social life.”

Light gave him a cocky grin, feeling the alcohol start to blur up his brain. “Hell, I’ll help him get back together with her if it gets him off my back.”

“We might take you up on that offer.” George said seriously as the Hufflepuffs and the sole Slytherin at the bench giggled. “The moping is going to be bloody awful this summer without her.”

Light opened his mouth to reply to that, but was interrupted by a slurred cry from across the joined tables. “ _Oy_ , Raito-kuuuun, _où es-tu?_ Raito-kuuun?” Light went rigid as L grabbed Hermione by the arm and towed her along the Great Hall towards where the brunet was sitting. The Weasley twins hooted.

“Hermione, the star of the show! Our baby brother’s jilted lover! And who’s her little friend?”

L continued with his rant, ignoring everyone else entirely. “Raito-kun, _Hermione m'a dit que nous ne pouvons sortir que si nous rencontrons les parents de l'autre. J'ai déjà rencontré ton père et je n'ai pas de parents mais j'ai pensé que ce serait une bonne idée de rencontrer Watari puisque tu connais déjà mon vrai nom.”_

Light held up his hand in front of L’s face. “L, it’s a pleasure to listen to you but shut up already. I don’t understand French.”

L blinked at the brunet and switched to an accented English so thick Light had to strain his fogged-up brain to understand him. “Oh. _Right_. Right. That makes sense, you’re my _Japanese_ Raito-kun. See now, Raito-kun, Hermione said that we’ll only be properly dating once you meet my parents. And besides it’s not fair that I met your parents already but you didn’t meet mine. Oh. The problem with that is that my parents are dead.” L paused. “So…don’t be mad at me, Raito-kun.”

Light drummed his fingers together in his lap. “Um. Okay. I won’t be…mad at you.”

L grinned, pleased. “That’s perfect! See, my parents may be dead, but now that you know my name you can meet Watari, can’t you? By the way, don’t tell anyone my name, Raito. _Raito_. _Raitooo_.” He started to giggle. “I like the _kun_ , makes it feel like a nickname. Raito- _kun_. Does everybody call you Raito-kun, Raito-kun?”

“Yes, L. Everyone calls me that, that’s how it works.”

The detective twisted his hands together as if nervous, then seemed to gather his courage with a deep breath and plopped himself in Light’s lap. The table burst into laughter at Light’s expression as L leaned in close. “So, Raito-kun. What does Raito-kun think of my plan?” His breath smelled pungently of alcohol, Light wrinkled his nose and flinched away.

“Your plan to meet Watari?”

L frowned. “No, Light! My plan to meet _Watari!_ My mentor and adoptive father! I can’t say his name in public, remember?”

“Oh. Right. Sure thing, L. I don’t mind meeting Watari.”

L snuggled up to Light, giving him a faint kiss on the collarbone, much to the disgust of the Weasley twins and the delight of the Hufflepuffs. “Raito-kun will like the orphanage, I think, for a change. My Raito-kun likes pretty things. Prettiness matters a lot to my Raito-kun.”

“Don’t be so sure. I like you.” Light smirked, ruffling L’s bushy hair. Hermione chortled, socking the brunet lightly across the temple.

“Ooh, burn. I’ll go find Ron and burn him too. But with an Incendio.”

The Weasley twins perked up. “We’d like to see that!” George exclaimed.

“Wait up, Granger!” Fred called as the two of them swung their legs off the bench and sprinted off to follow her.

L seemed to have fallen asleep on Light’s chest (making one of the Hufflepuff girls coo in adoration), but just as Light was preparing to shift him over to the bench, he felt a rumbling voice reverberate against him.

“Raito will be nice to have in the orphanage. He can meet Near and Matt and Mello and Linda and Watari and Roger and all the stupid children and all the smart children and maybe even BB will be there. Though if BB is there we should arrest him. No, I don’t want Raito to meet BB, it will make him hate me.” His words were rapid and barely coherent, and it was all Light could to not shake helplessly with laughter.

“Oh, L. Nothing could possibly make me hate you.”

L hummed in satisfaction. “Light Lawliet.”

Light froze. “What did you just say?”

“Hmm…” L smiled contentedly as he drifted off, fast asleep. Light made a face at the Hufflepuffs who were now giggling conspiratorially at him.

“ _He’s_ the real lightweight here.” He muttered, reluctantly wrapping an arm around L to support him as he slumbered.

“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious.” The one Slytherin girl at the table pushed over a glass of amber liquid to Light. “Shot?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the fluff is back! I missed you, fluff!
> 
> These chapters are such a joy to write.
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	47. Goodbye

 Ron didn’t expect his first day of being a Hero of the Wizarding World to be spent grounded in the Burrow, banned indefinitely from hanging out with Fred and George and, of course, from drinking firewhisky.

 “It’s bullshit! We literally just defeated Voldemort. The _Dark Lord._ We saved their bloody lives. I don’t get it. We should be going to press gatherings and getting autobiographies by Rita Skeeter, not bloody punished for having one drunken party! I haven’t seen mum in months and the first bloody thing she does is apparate us home and take away my wand. It’s not fair.” Ron ranted at Harry, who was clutching his own wand quite tightly in his fist, staring off into the middle distance. Ron flushed pink. “It’s not fair! _You_ have your wand! You were just as drunk as I was, weren’t you?”

Harry shrugged, shaking his head. “No, actually, Ron. It would be hard to be as drunk as you were.”

“Well, what were _you_ doing, then?”

Harry gave him a sheepish grin, sweeping his hair out of his large green eyes. “I was hanging out with Luna.”

Ron threw his hands up. “Great. Well, I know for a fact Fred and George were just as sloshed as I was, and _they_ still have their bloody wands.”

Harry started to chuckle. “Well, maybe that has something to do with the fact that they didn’t get into a jinxing match with Hermione of all people. _Hermione_ , Ron? With your mother in the castle and everything?”

“That wasn’t my idea, alright? She _started_ it! She always starts it and blames it on me! Who in the bloody hell tries to Incendio off someone else’s hair?”

The Boy-Who-Lived was shaking with laughter. “That noise you made, though. It was enough to get Luna’s attention off of the Thestrals.”

Ron sulked. “Shut up. I’m already up in shit creek with mum, I don’t need you making me feel any worse. And speak of the bleeding devil, it’s Hermione Granger. Hey, Hermione! Suck it!”

Hermione was strolling down the green pathway around the ramshackle house with a spidery man that could only be L. Unlike the youngest male Weasley, who had half-healed boils all over his face and singed hair that would never look normal again, the brunette witch had gotten rid of her slugs, warts and bat-bogeys with a snap of her fingers. So, obviously, she was walking along with an air of superiority, her pointed nose stuck in the air as she blatantly ignored him, deep in conversation with L (otherwise known as Hermione’s little ghost friend). The detective didn’t exactly need encouragement to ignore Ron, but welcomed it anyway, barely giving him a blank look as they sauntered closer.

 “So, by what you’re saying, if a man kills his entire family and kills himself, it could just be a Shinigami’s work?” Hermione said in her loud, clear voice, as if lording her superior intellect over the disgraced redhead.

L nodded. “Yes. The only real requirement is that the person being controlled should die within twenty-three days.”

Hermione frowned, flipping back the bushy brown hair that had only last night been covered in magical slime. “Then the person isn’t at fault! It’s the Shinigami’s work, they should be punished! Shouldn’t we be doing something about that? Regulating them with a law or something? They’re just going around killing people at random…!”

L shrugged. “How exactly are you going to convince Gods to be nicer? The most you can do is bargain for yourself. They’re not exactly Earthly beings, you see.”

Hermione and her white shadow passed by Ron’s bench. Hermione interrupted herself to give Harry a dazzling smile. “Hey, Harry.”

Harry gave the brunette a doubtful look. “Um, hi, Hermione.” L looked vaguely amused, especially as Hermione sniffed at Ron, turning crisply away from him.

“So they get more years the longer the lifespan of their victim was? Doesn’t that explain things like Sudden Infant Death Syndrome?”

L turned his deep black eyes to her. “Yes, of course it does, but that doesn’t mean every case is because of a Shinigami. There aren’t actually that many Shinigami in their world.” And with that, they walked off, Ron’s cheeks burning with annoyance.

“Yeah, great, so she’s a Shinigami expert just because she rescued Light’s stupid-arse ex-girlfriend from her Petrification and set her on a bloody cab to Japan. She’s bloody ridiculous.” Ron huffed.

“She did? I was beginning to wonder what happened to Misa.” A voice came from behind them and both Ron and Harry jumped, whipping around to find a certain brunet standing casually there with a fizzing violet drink in hand, Ginny Weasley by his side, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder.

Ron felt his cheeks flame up for a very different reason as Light gave him a toothy smile. _Why_ did he have to look so goddamn _perfect?_ Despite getting just as slammered as Ron last night, he wasn’t plagued by the dark circles or sallow skin that everyone else had. No, that would have defied the laws of nature.

He stood there with his silky rust-brown hair falling just so into his eyes, sipping his purple drink (the hangover concoction mum had brewed up; it tasted bloody disgusting but, of course, Light didn’t give a single indication of that) with his perfect pink lips that were slightly chapped, making him want to _oh shit_. He had _almost_ forgotten about that. _Almost._ Ron’s face felt like he had just pressed it to a muggle stove.

“Did she give you any trouble?” Light asked in an offhand tone, and Ron noticed that he was wearing one of Ron’s old sweaters, a plain maroon one his mother had knitted for Christmas, over a pair of saggy jeans. How did he manage to look so bloody exclusive even in the shittiest clothing? Ron looked like an absolute frump in those.

Ginny noticed him goggling and appeared to take pity on him. “Hey, Harry, you want to see the inside of my room?”

Both men on the bench were equally red now. “W-what?” Harry managed to stammer. Ginny gave him a sly grin. “You’ve never actually been in my room for more than a second, have you? Have you seen the cellphone Hermione gave me? It’s the coolest thing.”

Light choked on his drink at Harry’s expression. “I think he’s afraid of you.”

“They all are, after a point.” She shrugged coolly, tilting her head towards the tumbledown Burrow. “Well, Harry? You coming? Bill’s making walnut pie, so we should hurry before everybody comes back inside.”

Light snorted. “I’m not sure I want this image in my head every time I see walnut pie.”

Reluctantly, Harry got up off the bench and was promptly grabbed by the fiery redhead and dragged along down the pathway. “What, did you think you could escape me that easily? Disappearing before the party started, huh? I haven’t seen you for months, Harry!” They heard Ginny yell merrily at the Boy-Who-Lived, socking him on the shoulder and bumping him with her hip. Light watched the proceedings, slurping up his drink noisily as if watching a particularly dull Quidditch game. He glanced over at Ron.

“May I?” He gestured at Harry’s empty spot on the bench, and Ron rushed to make space for him.

“Yeah, sure! Sure.” He bit his lip and hoped he wasn’t glowing with the heat that didn’t seem capable of leaving his cheeks. With Light’s sideways glimpse at him, his hopes were in vain.

“So, did Misa swear undying vengeance on me? I’d really like to know before she actually plots something.”

Ron laughed breathily. “No, actually she seemed kind of resigned. I think she just never wants to see you again.”

Light sighed. “That makes two of us. Phew.” The morning light lit his hair to a golden bronze. Ron was just marvelling at how long his dark eyelashes were when the brunet turned and gave him a wry grin. “Thanks for the hangover potion, whatever it is.” He paused. “I…got your note.”

Ron turned away and fidgeted, his eyes trying to find Hermione and L so that he could just escape this monstrosity of a conversation. His embarrassment turned into pure mortification when he heard Light’s soft laugh.

“You really didn’t have to apologise, Ron. I get it, you were drunk.”

The redhead squirmed in his seat. “It’s no excuse…I really shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

He heard Light sip at his drink and swallow. “I don’t blame you or anything. I mean, I am irresistible.” Ron glanced beside him and the brunet winked, his smile teasing and reassuring at the same time, and _oh my god he is so right_.

“Planning on making a move on Hermione yet?” Light asked, crossing his legs.

Ron sighed. “Did you honestly miss the epic showdown last night or are you just rubbing it in?”

In response, he felt cool fingers pick at some of the irreversibly shorn off patches of orange hair on his scalp and his eyes widened, making sure not to look at the young man next to him. “She sure did a number on you. And whoa, these are not boils, they’re fucking balloons. I am not messing with Hermione Granger. Though, if you think about it, it does mean she hasn’t gotten over you yet.”

The brunet gave him a suggestive little smile, and it was suddenly hopelessly awkward to be looking like a dragged cat in front of Light Yagami. Ron straightened up and looked for any way to gracefully exit the conversation.

“So, listen, Light, I’ll go in and check on Bill’s walnut pie before the riffraff take the best slices. You want me to save one for you? No, probably not, huh? I’ll just go get some.” He shot out as rapidly as he could, making to get up.

He was stopped by a grip around his wrist. “Ron. Wait.”

Light was grimacing at him. His drink was finished, so he was idly running his thumb down the cool glass. He was giving him an expression that was almost completely blank, but despite that, his eyes were…sad.

Ron frowned and sat back down. “You alright, Light?”

Light shook his head. “Yeah, fine.” He shrugged and looked away. “Um, it’s just…I’ll be leaving this evening back to Japan.”

It didn’t quite register in Ron’s head. “What?” The redhead asked, a few seconds too late. Light gave him a little nudge, smiling.

“It was nice hanging out with you, Ron. You’re a good friend. You just need to grow some…self-esteem. Oh, and just for the record, Hermione does not like Harry more than you. I asked.”

Somehow, Ron could not bring himself to give a single shit about that. He stared at Light, wide-eyed. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. I mean, I had to leave sometime. Who knows what my parents must be thinking right now? I told them I’m going on vacation with _Ryuuzaki_. I didn’t even take my cellphone, I hadn’t expected it to work in the Shinigami realm.”

“You’re…going back to Japan?” Ron asked in a tiny voice. “You’ll visit, won’t you?”

Light shrugged. “I’d really like to, but I’m a first year student in To-oh University and Ryuuzaki forced me to skip two semesters, I’ll probably be spending all my time making up for the lost credits for at least three years. Maybe…after that?”

It began to sink in, and Ron felt a most unexpected emotion: rage. “What the fuck, Light? This evening? And I won’t see you again for _three years?”_

“Yeah. L called up one of his contacts, they’ll pick us up in London. Fleur will apparate us there.”

Ron gritted his teeth. “Bloody hell. You really don’t give a shit, do you?”

Light blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t give a single shit about all this, do you? About me?”

The brunet licked his lips. “Ron…I do give a shit. That’s why I’m saying goodbye.”

“Don’t bloody _bother_.” Ron got up off the bench, spying Light’s bemused expression and feeling the fury in him spike. “Don’t give enough of a shit to visit for three years. Three years? Who am I kidding? You’ll probably never look back here for the rest of your life. Go to hell for all I fucking care. What the fuck are credits? What’re you going to do with a bloody muggle degree and muggle credits anyway?”

“Oh, wow. Unlike you, I actually _am_ a muggle, okay? And that means credits and a degree matter to me. Just because the Death Note gave me powers doesn’t make me a wizard.”

Ron spun around, hands in fists. “Yes. It. _Does_. A wizard is a person with magic, that’s what this war has been all _about_ , muggle-borns are wizards, and muggles with power are wizards _too_. That’s what this is all about!”

Light was speechless, his tanned cheeks glowing a faint pink. “Ron, chill out. Seriously.”

 _“Chill out?_ How can you fucking say that?”

Light spoke cautiously, putting his hands on Ron’s shoulders. “Look, we’ll text every now and then and catch up, won’t we? Wait, fuck, you guys don’t have phones. Well, I guess we could send Patronuses every month or something?”

“Don’t. Bloody. Bother.” Ron shoved off Light’s hands and stalked away in the direction of the Burrow before turning swiftly on his heel to stalk right back and pin Light down to the bench. The brunet took in a startled breath, caramel eyes wide.

“Ron?”

Ron sighed, dipping his head, but he didn’t release Light’s arms. “Look, Light, we’ve always been straight with each other. I’ve made it pretty clear I have feelings for you, and you’ve made it clear you prefer L. I get that. But I _don’t_ get you acting like you can just drop everything and go home and pretend you’re just a normal muggle again. You’re not a normal muggle, you never were. You can’t go back.”

Light looked peeved. “I have family and a future there, Ron. I’m going to be an officer of the NPA.”

“The fuck’s the NPA? Your ministry?”

Now he was a little more than peeved. “No, it’s the police force. Detectives.”

“You want to be a muggle policeman? Those idiots the Aurors Obliviate every three weeks?” Ron was incredulous. “You learn about a magical world and you decide to throw all that in the trash to be a muggle policeman?”

“ _Detective_.” Light spat out, shoving Ron off. “And no, I’m not fucking throwing it in the trash, alright? Don’t be so melodramatic.”

“I don’t see a bloody difference between a policeman and a detective. It’s not like they make an impact, they’re just bloody muggles giving out tickets to drunkards.”

Light narrowed his eyes at him. “Look. Being a detective has been my dream ever since I was a kid.”

“Yeah, before you found out about your bloody powers!”

“That doesn’t matter!”

“Doesn’t it?” Ron peered at Light. “We haven’t known each other that long, Light, but even I know you don’t actually want to rejoin the muggle world and go on like nothing happened.”

Light’s eyes flashed with rage. “What else can I do, Ron? Stay here in the Burrow with you forever? Live in L’s orphanage as his trophy wife? What options do you think I have? I wasn’t raised here, you know. I haven’t attended Hogwarts. I’m a goddamn _muggle_. Rejoining the muggle world is all I _can_ do.”

Ron blinked. The Burrow option _had_ been pretty close to his ideal scenario. He began to get his gears spinning as fast as he could, but evidently it wasn’t fast enough because Light got up from the bench and brushed off his jeans, giving him a contemptuous look. “Exactly. You can go check on Bill’s walnut pie now. I’m going for a walk.”

And so without so much as a flourish he was gone, a patch of maroon and auburn against the tall grasses around the Burrow. Ron sagged back against the bench, emptied of words, thinking and thinking but coming up with nothing.

* * *

Light found out that his old Aspen wand had been burnt to dust when he died, though he had already pretty much predicted that. Fleur had offered to make a stop at Diagon Alley, Ollivander the great wand-maker would have been glad to replace wands for one of the saviours of the Wizarding world, but Light didn’t see the point. It wasn’t as if he had any real reason to get a new wand. They weren’t going to need it all that much in the muggle world, after all.

He did sneak away Corner’s black wand, though. He wanted a souvenir (and, as Cho had so very eloquently put it, _he’s not using it anyway_ ). Maybe, every now and then, he could practice an Accio or a Patronus charm when he was alone.

He hadn’t felt half this sad when he realised his reign as Kira had ended. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Kira had _had_ to end for L to live, or maybe it was because he had made actual friends here in the Wizarding world. How long had it been? A month? Two?

He would miss Ron, surprisingly. Even though the redhead mostly served as a comic relief to him, he had been good company, and somehow ended up one of his very few actual friends. Hermione was cool, as were Fleur and Bill, and Harry…okay, maybe he wouldn’t really bother missing Harry.

At least he would get to keep L. He would see his family again (after a year?), and apparently Misa had been driven out of his life as well. Things seemed wrapped up with a big, shiny bow, everything perfect inside the package.

But despite all of that, it was with a sense of melancholy that he finally waved goodbye to Fleur and entered the long black limousine that pulled up beside them, the detective holding the door open for him as he slipped inside.

Strangely, he felt like he had forgotten something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Ron. Never change. 
> 
> Aw, the story's coming to a close soon. I feel melancholic, kind of, even though I've been posting non-stop for three months now XD this thing's done a huge deal for me, gotten me back into writing and everything! I'm even writing a Twilight crossover now, it's so much fun XD
> 
> Next chapter: Light meets L's guardian and mentor at a mysterious place known as Whammy's House!
> 
> Thank you for all the reviews, seriously. <3


	48. Happy Reunion

 It had truly been amazing to see Light’s shells fall away in the magical world, and so it was to L’s relief that they weren’t growing back as they rode the plush seat of Roger’s limousine, on their way to L’s childhood home and the refuge of his successors. L was glad; it was this Light he trusted, this Light he wanted to let all of his secrets out to.

He was pretty sure Watari was going to murder him though.

L raised an eyebrow as he spotted Roger giving him a pointed look in the rear view mirror. The world’s greatest detective gave him his blankest, vaguest stare. “Yes, Roger?”

“N-nothing sir. I was just wondering if you were planning on making a stop to drop off your, ah, friend.”

L pulled his knees closer to his chest, his thumb brushing his lip. “And why would you wonder that?”

“Because, sir…well.” The old man trained his eyes on the road again, refusing to meet L’s unyielding stare. “As you wish, sir.”

He heard Light snort, and a glance to his side revealed the teenager biting his lip, obviously holding in a laugh as he kept his eyes firmly outside the window, watching the scenery pass them by as they drove through the country towards Winchester. L only barely managed to keep his blank mask on.

“Is something amusing you, Raito-kun?”

Light shook his head, his smile lifting the corners of his lips. “You’re so damn typical, Ryuuzaki.”

L raised his eyebrows. “I must protest that, Raito-kun. There is nothing typical about me.”

Light gave him a teasing smirk, opting not to answer. It was very, very hard for L to fight his smile for the rest of the ride.

Of course, it did disappear of its own accord when the car slowly approached the swinging wrought-iron gates of the large English mansion, the stone pillar beside it displaying the plaque that bears its name, _Whammy’s House_ , in gothic golden lettering.

L could have put Raito on a plane to Japan directly in London. He didn’t need to bring him here. This time the risk didn’t just involve _his_ life, it involved Watari, Near, Mello and the entire L program. Was he making a mistake? He was compromising all of them and the safety of everyone on the premises. This was _Kira_ he was bringing into his childhood home and headquarters. Was he thinking when he made this decision? Did he have to commit to a drunken whimsy? _This was why he didn’t drink!_ This was why…

He felt a warm hand enclose his as the car entered the open gates and backed up into the stone driveway, with children flooding out of the orphanage doors, ready to greet Roger and his mysterious passengers.

L looked up at his Raito-kun, and was startled by the softness in his brown eyes. He watched as the brunet placed a finger on his lips and gave him a small, tentative smile. “I promise.” The teenager mouthed, and the warmth caught L by surprise. He almost grabbed him in a desperate hug right there, if only he wasn’t sure that Roger was watching shamelessly through the rear-view mirror.

L settled for squeezing Light’s hand and giving him a grateful nod of the head (because even smiling wasn’t an option with Roger in the car). “Thank you, Raito.” He whispered, too softly for himself to hear.

Roger stopped the car and unlocked it, waiting patiently for L to exit. The detective wished he could have a few moments alone with Raito before Watari subjected them to his disapproval, but the last thing he needed was Roger writing a report on his unprofessionalism (as he was probably going to do by the end of this anyway).

Reluctantly, he opened the door, slipping his hand out of Raito’s and exiting into a sea of orphans who immediately fused to his legs and asked him who he was, what he was doing in Whammy’s House and if he was an orphan too.

L rolled his eyes, gesturing to Roger to come out and deal with the mess. The gesture was in vain, though, because the minute Raito-kun stepped out beside him, all of their attention diverted to the Japanese man. The children gawked at him, and their tiny hands grabbed at the ripped jeans the brunet had borrowed from Bill.

“Whoa, you look like a model!”

“Are you a k-pop singer?”

“Are you a _celebrity?_ ”

 “Is your hair dyed? Why didn’t you dye it pink?”

“Why are you at _Whammy’s_?”

“Do you know anything about the feudal society of Japan? I have to do a critical analysis of this book by James Clavell and I really don’t want to read it…”

Light was stunned to silence. His eyes widened as he watched them clamber over each other to get closer to him. L was just about to intervene and save him when he suddenly crouched down to their eye level, giving them all a severe look. The crowd of children quietened down, watching him intently.

“I’m not a k-pop singer, and assuming I am is very racist of you. Why I’m at Whammy’s is a complicated question which I will not answer. And as for you, if the book you’re talking about is Shōgun, I’ve read the first book in the series so I could probably help you out with that.”

The children cheered, and the one with the homework grabbed the sleeve of Light’s black leather jacket (Bill’s, actually. Light would never actually wear something this sexy by himself), pulling him along. “I have my notes right here!” The kid, a small black-haired boy L could vaguely recognise as being sixth or so in line to be successor (…Cal? Cat? Cyrus?) just about dragged Light towards the main building of Whammy’s House as the rest of the crowd flocked around them. Light whipped his head back to L, alarmed. The detective shrugged.

“Could you please stop them from assaulting Raito-kun, Roger?”

Roger chuckled. “It seems Whammy is quite capable of that himself, L.”

L’s blood turned to ice as he darted a glance towards the entrance of Whammy’s, where Watari was indeed loping forward, cutting easily through the crowd of children and stopping in front of Cyrus (or whatever his name was). The black-haired boy dropped Light’s hand, visibly cowering as he tried his hardest to blend back into the crowd.

He then turned the force of his gaze onto Light, who did not flinch as L had expected him to. Instead, the teenager opted to give the old man a cocky grin. “Hey, Watari-san. Long time no see.”

“Hello, Light Yagami.” And the founder of Whammy’s House and L’s adoptive guardian turned his head in slow motion to meet the eyes of the world’s greatest detective. “Hello, Ryuuzaki.”

L was not ashamed to say that he did, in fact, flinch away.

* * *

“I am sorry to say, L, but after a month and a half of disappearing from the face of this Earth, you cannot possibly expect us not to have replaced you.”

L was sitting in the plush chair in front of Quillish Whammy’s desk as he had throughout his education. He was feeling more like a scolded child than he had in all of his twenty-five years of existence. He supposed he did deserve it, after disappearing without so much as a warning for months, having scheduled all of his cases to go to Near and Mello for an indefinite period. A suspicious eye could have seen that as a possible elopement with a certain former suspect he had obvious feelings for (speaking of said former suspect, if L craned his neck far enough, he could spot the teenager in the grounds, sitting cross legged with Cyrus. He was teaching him something from a fat book open on his lap, and it was such a domestic scene despite the leather jacket and ripped jeans that L couldn’t help but glance over every five seconds). So yeah, maybe Whammy had a right to be disappointed in him.

But goddamn it, he was back, wasn’t he?

“Yes, Watari, I thought as much. However, now that I am back, you may return my cases to me.”

Whammy straightened his glasses on his nose, giving him a strict look over his quivering moustache. “And why, exactly, would I do that, L?”

L blinked. “Um. Because I am L.”

“You brought the _prime suspect of the Kira_ _case_ to the grounds of our headquarters.”

L raised a slender finger in the air. “ _Former_ prime suspect. And I have brought him here because I consider him the best candidate to be my successor.”

_“What?”_ L was suddenly afraid Watari might have a heart attack. “I must inform you that Near is doing a superb job functioning as L in your absence. Already, he had solved a major cyber-theft case and has made an agreement with the American CIA to function as a consultant for their forces.”

L widened his eyes, horrified. “You mentioned that you replaced me how long ago?”

“One month ago. We spent two weeks searching all the local crime rings for possible signs of your being abducted and held for information. We even waited for a ransom letter. I was finally forced to conclude that you acted on your feelings for Light Yagami and escaped with him to an unknown location to pursue your relationship without the burden of being L.”

 “Whammy, that is ridiculous. I would not give up the position of L that easily.”

Watari studied L, pensive. He took off his glasses, polished them with a soft cloth on his desk and straightened them on his nose. Finally, he looked back up at L. “For Light Yagami, you would.”

Unexpectedly, L burst out laughing. “Where are you getting these fancies, Whammy?”

“L, I know you well. You were a sheltered child, and you did not care for people for a very long time. I have seen these signs in several children before you and I can see them in you now. For that boy, you could give up being L without a second thought, and that is a dangerous weakness to have in a person of such importance.”

L rolled his eyes. “Near is, pardon my language, a bullshit replacement for me, Whammy. One cyber-theft case in an entire month? I solve a case a _week.”_

Whammy pursed his lips. “Yes, Near may have starting trouble, but…”

“But nothing. Even if I am distracted by my boyfriend, I can still solve more cases than Near in my sleep. I am undoubtedly the better choice.”

Whammy shook his head, but L knew he had hit a nerve. “Your boyfriend, as you put it, is a security hazard.”

“No, he is not. I trust him implicitly. He is no more a security hazard than Mello who, I assume, is out in the wild at this very moment? Possibly integrating himself into a mafia or two?”

Whammy looked away. “Near will not appreciate having the title of L taken from him so soon.”

“Then we shall put him on a last case. He will track down Mello and bring him back to Whammy’s House. They will be forced to work together until they can stand each other. Neither of them have the potential to match up to me on their own. They must function as a team.”

Whammy nodded. “Understood, L.”

L suppressed a smile, pleased but refusing to give up his blank L mask in front of anybody except Light. Somehow, though, he could see in Watari’s eyes that he sensed it anyway. The old man’s icy demeanour cracked for just a second, and L spied a glimpse of his adoptive guardian, the one who had rescued him from the orphanages of Paris and taken him in. The one who had raised him and trained him to become everything he was today.

The old gentleman inventor bowed his head. “I am glad you are safe and well, L. I was worried.”

“Thank you, Whammy.”

“Also, L.” The man raised his head and met L’s blank stare without flinching, as only few people were capable of. “I am glad that you are happy.”

L got up out of his seat and made his way to the door, stopping there and cocking his head at the closest thing to a father he had.

“So am I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always thought Light as a k-pop singer was a good idea XD
> 
> Also, you know something weird about fanfiction.net? The religion trolls. They freak me out, they've reviewed all of my stories on there with weird religious chants about how fanfiction is the work of satan. AO3 is so much better XD
> 
> Review and comment! :D Love hearing what you have to say!


	49. Not So Happy Reunion

“You know, Raito-kun, I’ve always had this…fantasy.”

Light cocked his head at him, amused as he leaned back once more onto the stiff seat of their cab. “I didn’t know you were capable of those.”

L raised his eyebrows. “You’re one to speak. You forget I watched you on monitors for a total of five days in your natural habitat. Five days and the only thing you did that even resembled a normal teenager was look at a few magazines, and you weren’t affected in the slightest.”

Light gave him a stern look. “You sound pretty damn proud of yourself.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say I don’t regret it.”

Light rolled his eyes, elbowing the detective off of him.

“Oh, come on, Raito-kun, I’m only telling you you’re a pleasure to watch…for five continuous days without a single break.” L smirked. “Watching you sleep was particularly fun.”

Light grimaced. “Such a fucking pervert. Don’t touch me.”

“Aw, Raito-kuuun.” L wrapped himself around Light, slipping his slender fingers into Light’s silky auburn hair. “Don’t you want to hear my fantasy?”

Light shrugged, tilting his head towards L’s touch. “I don’t know if I have the stomach.”

L grinned, snuggling closer to his brunet. “I’ll tell you anyway. It involves the Kira Investigation Headquarters.”

Light squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m afraid to hear this.”

“It’s not so bad, Raito-kun, though at the time it did make me feel quite hot and bothered.” L sniggered. “I fantasised that one day, when I’d be working late looking for clues on the Kira case in the dark, Watari would walk in with a huge strawberry cheesecake. And I mean _huge_ too. Six feet tall and scented with the perfume of heaven, I could see it in the reflection on my monitor. He would bring it right behind me, clear his throat and leave, and I would reach behind me to scoop up icing without taking my eyes off the screen. However, instead of icing, my fingers touch-”

“L, no.” Light cradled his head in his hands. “Don’t tell me I’m on the cake.”

L grinned. “Naked and licking a strawberry.”

“Oh, god, this is uncomfortable.” The brunet groaned.

“And then you would get up off of the cake, covered in cream and frosting and looking absolutely scrumptious. You’d lean over me, whispering in my ear in your seductive Japanese, _clean me up, Ryuuzaki_.” L mimed licking Light’s chest free of icing and the teenager burst out laughing.

Light knew what this was about. L was trying to distract him from where they were heading. The detective had obviously noticed the minute they had left Whammy’s House that Light was stressed out, for obvious reasons. L’s family wasn’t really a family, and they most definitely weren’t the Yagami family. Light wasn’t quite sure how his parents would react to his being gone for so long. Would they excuse it because it was L or would they forbid him from leaving the house ever again? What if they disowned him or worse, cut his college funding? What if they kicked him out? Nothing was an exaggeration where his father was concerned (correction: where his father’s honour was concerned)…and his only son running away without a word with a homosexual man was a pretty big stain on aforementioned honour.

Light _had_ noticed L staring at him throughout their flight on the detective’s private jet, but couldn’t have gotten himself to be more present in the conversation. He had had to practice his lie, after all. He had to make sure there were no loose ends if he wanted to get out of this situation whole.

L’s fingers ran down the open zipper of Light’s leather jacket, slipping inside to probe carelessly at his wine-red t-shirt. “And then, of course, Raito-kun, you would cut out a super-sized slice of cheesecake and hold it teasingly in front of me as you slide onto my lap. _Feed me, Ryuuzaki_ , you’d say as you take just the tiniest nibble out of _my_ cake…”

Light just about pounced on the other man, bubbling with laughter, yanking him forward by the front of his sweatshirt and grabbing his lips in his. “You’re so fucking bad at this.” He laughed into their kiss as he pressed down on him. The brunet made to climb onto his lap before L placed a careful hand on his chest, pushing him back. The detective’s eyes darted to the front of the cab, where the driver watched them with a scandalised expression, his grip on the steering wheel so tight it left his knuckles white. “Don’t draw attention, Raito-kun.”

Light grinned cheekily. “You don’t want a little nibble, Ryuuzaki?”

L turned a light shade of pink. “I always want a little nibble, Raito-kun, but perhaps not in public where people will remember my face.”

“People will remember your face anyway, Ryuuzaki.” Light said, but he did stop his advances. He lowered his eyes. “You really didn’t have to come, you know. You have a lot of catch-up work to do, and it’s just my family.”

L snickered. “Why is it that you make everything sound like homework, Raito-kun? I am perfectly capable of solving cases and having time to spare. Besides, didn’t you hear Hermione? You only date after you meet each others’ families. When else am I going to meet your mother and sister? Apart from on camera, I mean.”

Light chuckled. “I really hope you didn’t watch _them_ in the bathroom, Ryuuzaki.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. Your father took over that aspect of the case.”

Light cringed. “That doesn’t make me any more comfortable.” He paused. “You’re…not going to tell them we’re dating, are you? My father already suspects it, and with my whole idiotic idea of telling them I was going on vacation with you and everything, he’s not going to take it well, though in my defence I had only expected to be gone a day or two.”

L cocked his head. “They would disapprove?”

Light raised his eyebrows, refusing to acknowledge that with an answer. L pulled out a lollipop from his pocket and unwrapped it carefully, giving it an experimental lick. “Cherry.” He popped it into his mouth and, with his mouth full, turned back to Light. “Which aspect would they disapprove of? The age gap, the sexuality or my occupation?”

Light smiled faintly. “That’s an interesting question. No, my father is a dedicated fan of your occupation, so nothing to worry about there. They probably don’t really give a shit about your age.” Light gestured at L’s crotch. “It’s your junk that’s the problem here.”

“Hmm.” The detective bit down on his lollipop. “That _is_ an issue. If it was age or job, I was planning on just lying. I don’t look twenty-five.” He looked down at himself. “Raito-kun doesn’t have a problem with my…junk, does he?”

Light laughed. “I’d show you how much of a problem I have with it, but you don’t want me to draw attention.”

L smiled wryly. “Oh, what I’m going to do to you the minute we get some privacy, Raito-kun, you have no idea.”

Light smirked. “What _you’re_ doing to _me?_ Nice try.” He was just about to tease him further, but unfortunately, the cab chose that very moment to turn in to a familiar street, about five seconds from stopping in front of his home. It was twilight, perhaps a few hours from when his father would return home. He didn’t know if it was a good thing that he didn’t have to face his father immediately.

He glanced to his side to see L staring intently at him, chewing absently on his lollipop. Slowly, the detective wrapped his pale hand around Light’s, his black eyes never leaving him for a second.

“Raito-kun, you know I would never let you go alone.”

Light smiled and squeezed his hand back as the cab stopped in front of the Yagami household, the warm yellow lights of the kitchen lighting up the windows of the dark house.

* * *

Light didn’t really know what he was expecting Ryuuzaki to do after the older man had paid the cab-driver a little extra for the trouble. One part of him desperately didn’t want him to leave, and another part of him hoped he would.

The teenager opened the gate leading to his front door with one hand clutching the strap of his backpack tightly. He stepped up on the porch with a white shadow trailing him uncertainly, back bent in a hunch, rolling the lollipop around between his teeth. _This_ man wanted to stay under the radar? The brunet breathed back a chuckle. Maybe if he tried brushing his hair, Light would believe him.

Light took a deep breath as he stopped in front of the door, glanced back at his partner (who extracted the lollipop from his mouth with a loud smack to beam at him) and rang the doorbell.

He didn’t know why he was so nervous, really. There was just this feeling of…foreboding in his stomach. He had never really done anything like this before, being the top scorer ultra-nerd that he was, but all things considered, a vacation made _sense_. They had just arrested Kira and he had been publicly cleared of all suspicion. Wasn’t a celebration in order? Wasn’t that what normal people did? It had already been established that Ryuuzaki thought of him as his first friend, so why was he stressing?

 _“One minute!”_ He heard Sayu’s voice call from inside. _“Father’s home!”_ She bellowed at the top of her lungs to her mother as pattering footsteps made their way to the doorway. The door wrenched open, washing the doorstep in yellow light. “Welcome home, Fath-“ She cut herself off abruptly, turning one shade paler as her eyes trailed up to his face.

Light smiled at his little sister, watching her brown eyes go wide. “Hi, Sayu.”

“R-Raito?” She breathed, growing terribly still. Light shrugged.

“I guess it’s hard to tell with the leather jacket but-”

With a shriek, the girl barrelled into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. _“Raito! Onii-chan!_ _You’re home!_ _You’re home you’re home you’re home-”_

Light gently rested his hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair. “Yeah, I’m home. I’m home. It’s okay, Sayu, chill.”

Without warning, his little sister began to bawl into his shirt, soaking it with tears. Light froze, startled. “Sayu? Um…seriously, it’s just me, stop crying.”

The girl clutched at the cottony fabric of his shirt tightly enough to nearly tear it apart. “You’re alive…”

“What?” Light was incredulous. “Did you not expect me to be?”

“Sayu, what is this ruckus?” A sharp voice came from the kitchen. His mother, a short, brusque woman perpetually in an apron, appeared at the end of the hallway, marching crisply along with her eyes on the bowl she held in the curve of her arm. She was stirring whatever was inside with complete dedication. “Who is at the-”

She stopped the minute she raised her head, her eyes round marbles in her skull. The bowl fell from her arm and crashed into the floor, the batter flying everywhere. The older woman made to follow it down, scrabbling at the walls for support. Light quickly detached himself from Sayu, dropping his backpack and diving to catch her before she fell, getting sticky batter all over his shoes. “Mother! Mother, _breathe.”_ He whipped his head up to Sayu. “Did you think I was _dead?”_

Sayu blubbered, her hands over her mouth. “W-we…a m-month…father said…”

Light gaped at her. “But I _told_ him…!”

“Raito…” The woman in his arms sighed faintly. She raised her hand and her fingers ran down his face, as if memorising every feature on it. “Raito, you came back...”

Light looked helplessly to L, who was standing at the doorway and chewing contentedly on his cherry lollipop. Sayu followed his line of sight to rest on the detective, and her eyes boggled. “Who the hell are you?” Light was about to open his mouth to explain when his sister turned white, taking three steps back and putting her arms out as if to stop the stranger from entering her home. “Are you Ryuuzaki?”

L looked surprised, his blank mask slipping. “Yes. Has your father told you about me? What else has he told you?”

Sayu didn’t answer, raising her arms further out and stepping back. Light realised with a jolt that she wasn’t stopping the detective from entering their home. She was shielding their mother…and Light.

“You stay away from here! Get out of here or I’ll call the police! I’ll call _father!”_ She cried out. Ryuuzaki stared blankly at her.

“Yagami-kun, I do not pose a threat-”

“Don’t come closer!” Sayu darted back to grab her (new) cellphone from the table beside the stairs and began to dial frantically into it. Ryuuzaki seemed alarmed.

“Sayu-kun, I am not going to harm your family.”

Light piped up. “Sayu, it’s alright. Calm down. He’s my friend.”

Sayu whirled around to face her brother, tears glistening over her cheeks, holding her phone to her ear. “I don’t know what he’s been telling you, Onii-chan, but they’re all lies. Please, just trust me. You’re safe now.” She spun back to stare down Ryuuzaki as someone picked up her call. “Otou-san, come home right now! _Right now!_ You’re on your way, great! He’s here, Ryuuzaki’s here, and Raito’s home too! Yes, he’s safe, come right now! I’ll explain at home!”

 _“Sayu!”_ Light snapped, propping his still-weakened mother against the wall and getting to his feet, batter sticking to his ripped jeans. “Sayu, listen to me. Ryuuzaki’s not here to hurt us. He’s only here to make sure I got here alright. He’s my friend from college. We-”

“Shut _up,_ Onii-chan!” She shouted, startling Light into silence. “Just shut up! We know what he is, and what he’s done to you! I can’t believe _you_ are acting like this. I don’t know how he’s got you like this, but believe me, it stops now! We’re not letting him touch you again!”

“Touch him?” L frowned, sucking thoughtfully on his lollipop. His eyes lit up with understanding. “Amane Misa.”

Sayu turned pink. “Don’t you go after her, I’ll kill you!”

Light groaned. “Damn it. What has Misa told you, Sayu?”

His mother’s quiet voice floated up from where she sat with her back against the wall. “She’s told us everything, Raito.” But before she could elaborate on that, there was a loud crash outside and the front gate banged open. Yagami Soichiro strode up to the door with a crazed look in his eyes, his car parked haphazardly on the sidewalk outside. Without hesitating for a second, he grabbed hold of Ryuuzaki and pressed him face-first against the wall, roughly yanking his wrists behind him and ripping a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

Light’s mouth dropped open in horror. “Otou-san, wait!” He rushed over to stop him from snapping the handcuffs onto Ryuuzaki. “Just let me explain-”

Colours burst in his vision and he found himself sprawled on the floor, his jaw throbbing. He pressed his hand to the painful area, squeezing his eyes shut as he propped himself back up to a sitting position. He felt Sayu’s arms around him, helping him up and restraining him from going to Ryuuzaki’s aid. He tried to shrug her off but she held on as tight as a leech.

“Detective Yagami, you will release me right this moment.” L said in his most monotone, authoritarian voice, his arms dangerously lax in the handcuffs. Light’s father sneered.

“Do you think you have any power over me, Ryuuzaki? After manipulating and abducting my son and doing god knows what with him?”

Light shoved Sayu off of him. “Otou-san, he didn’t abduct me! I told you-”

 _“You keep your mouth shut, Raito!_ I’ll deal with you after this!”

“Detective Yagami.” L tried again. “Please let me clarify-”

“Sachiko. Sayu.” The older Yagami gripped the bridge of his nose. “Lock Raito in his room. I will need to call the Task Force to arrange special detainment for Ryuuzaki.”

Light jumped up to his feet. “Otou-san, _listen to me!_ Ryuuzaki needed my help in one of his cases! I had to tell you I was going on vacation with him because it was top-secret, and-”

Detective Yagami let go of Ryuuzaki and loped over to Light, dragging him forward by the collar of his shirt and lifting him to his tiptoes to meet the older man’s eyes. “And where exactly did you go?”

Light stammered. “L-London.”

“Was Watari in London with you, Raito?”

Light widened his eyes, darting from his father to L, who looked beyond peeved in his handcuffs. “Um, w-well, it is top secret, I c-can’t tell you…O-Otou-san, let me go, I can’t breathe…” He tugged at his father’s grip on his shirt.

Soichiro let out a shaky gasp, immediately releasing him. Light stumbled back, but the older Yagami snatched the brunet’s hand and threw him off balance. The middle-aged man lifted the hand up in front of his face.

“Raito…what is this?”

Shit. _St. Mungo’s_. He knew he had forgotten something! In all the excitement of dying, coming back to life and defeating Voldemort, his finger had completely slipped his mind. He probably shouldn’t have had it healed so well.

It didn’t look particularly grotesque, the finger was missing but the skin over the wound had healed well and there was no swelling or infection. The scar tissue was obvious, though.

 Light dug through his mind for an acceptable excuse. “T-the case, I went undercover…”

Yagami Soichiro’s slightly unhinged expression disappeared, and Light almost breathed a sigh of relief. Almost.

His vision flashed red. There was a smarting ache on the side of his face. He was being shaken as if he was boneless by the grip on his shirt. _“The truth, Raito!_ Tell me what he did to you right now!” His father drew back his hand and hit him again, making the room spin about a little bit around him. _“Stop lying to me!”_

 _“Detective Yagami!”_ L yelled, striding forward with his hands still bound behind his back. “If you do not release him this instant I will make sure you have no career to go back to tomorrow!”

“Fat chance you’ll get to do that from a jail cell, _Ryuuzaki.”_ The older Yagami snarled. “I will find out what you have done to my boy and I will make sure you suffer, you lowlife. And to think I went along with your perverted obsession on my son, to think I excused it all as a part of your investigation.”

“Otou-san, he hasn’t done anything to me. We were solving a case together, I swear to you.” Light flinched as Soichiro raised his hand again, but it didn’t strike. Sayu had latched herself to her father’s arm, her face crumpled as if holding back tears. “Otou-san, stop hitting him…”

Her father turned his incensed glare to her, but it quickly softened as he loosened his grip on his son. “Alright.” He pulled his gun from its sheath in his belt and gave it to his wife, who had finally stood up. “Sachiko, if the bastard moves, shoot him.”

The Yagami mother raised her chin, her hands holding the gun firmly. “Gladly. Sayu, stay out of the way.”

L looked exasperated. “This is nonsense. You are refusing to listen to reason, Detective Yagami.”

The middle-aged man ignored him, dragging Light along by the shirt up the stairs. The teenager stumbled as he followed his father. “Otou-san, you have to believe me…” This was very strange. His lies usually worked on his father. How persuasive could Misa have been? “What…what did Misa tell you?”

Detective Yagami stopped in front of Light’s bedroom door with an aggravated sigh. “She told me everything, Raito. She told me how L has been manipulating you. Ever since the handcuffs, how he has you completely under his spell, how you go along with anything for him. She had walked in on the two of you…doing unspeakable acts…several times, and each time he was clearly forcing himself on you. I…I saw the proof, the video camera footage was missing for all the days she mentioned.

“She had overheard L planning to take you to some unknown location to fully commit to his perverted fantasies, and said you were going willingly because of how you look up to him as an investigator. Amane-san was going to search for you with the help of Shinigami Rem, and she returned only yesterday. She called us up the minute she landed, telling us that L had somehow killed the Shinigami and may have killed you too. We were…we were so afraid, Raito. I had utilised all of my resources looking for you, I contacted Watari but nobody knew where the two of you were.

“And…it is all my fault, my son. I allowed him to install sixty-three more cameras in your room than in the rest, I allowed him to handcuff himself to you despite your innocence being proven, I allowed his obsession with you to fester. I have failed you, Raito, and for that I am deeply sorry.”

Light huffed tiredly. “No, Otou-san, Misa’s getting her revenge on me. I dumped her, and she’s getting payback by trying to make my life miserable.”

The older Yagami deflated. “She is not lying, I can see it in her eyes. She is deeply anguished, Raito. She loves you very much.”

The teenager groaned. “Then she’s manipulating you. This is Amane Misa we’re talking about, she’s crazy! _She’s_ the obsessed one.”

“In that case, why did you hide all the luggage you had packed for your case or vacation or whatever in the Kira Investigation Headquarters? Why didn’t you take your phone? Why are you dressed this way? And what happened to your finger?”

Light bit his lip. “Well, I was undercover, I told you. This…is how I was supposed to look. So, I couldn’t take my phone or any of my stuff…”

“And your finger?”

The teenager ran his thumb over the smooth scar tissue. “Gunshot wound. One of the suspects found out I was trailing them and shot me.”

Soichiro gave him a scrutinising look and let out a deep breath. To Light’s absolute surprise, the older man pulled him in to a tight hug, his fingers digging into his back. “Raito. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I…yeah. Sure.”

“So why do you insist on lying to me?” His tone was quiet, melancholy. Detective Yagami swung open Light’s bedroom door and pushed him inside. “I will let you out only when you tell me the truth, Raito. Not before then.”

“But I _am_ telling the truth. What are you doing?” Light tried to stick his foot between the door and the jamb, but his father was too quick, slamming the door shut in his face. The lock latched with a damning click. “Otou-san, no! Let me out!” He banged the door with his fist.

“When you decide to tell the truth.” Yagami Soichiro’s voice was faint as he began to walk back downstairs. Light hit the door again.

“Don’t hurt Ryuuzaki!”

To that, as expected, he received no reply. With a sigh, he loped over and sat on his bed, covering his face with his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soichiro being borderline abusive has always kinda been my headcanon XD
> 
> Review and comment! :D


	50. Escape

_Who the fuck did they think they were, locking him up in here like a wild animal?_

Light was steaming mad. It had been about an hour since his father had locked his door (he didn’t know for sure, though, because for some reason they had taken the _clock_ out of his room), and Light was reaching his boiling point.

He knew that his escape would be immediately blamed on Ryuuzaki, so that wasn’t really an option. But he couldn’t sit tight, either. He didn’t want Ryuuzaki detained in whatever Task Force-specific prison his father had cooked up, blamed for abducting and raping him when all the detective had really set out to do was give Light company.

On a side note, though, who knew Misa was ingenious enough to think up an actual plan? He had assumed her anarchy would be mostly harmless considering she had forgotten L’s real name and didn’t really know anything important. Apart from the fact that Light was Kira, of course, but she would never expose her beloved Kira, no matter how badly Light Yagami betrayed her.

So he had disregarded her completely, and now he was paying for it.

Luckily, there was a middle ground. All he had to do was get to a phone and call Watari. He could have easily contacted the head of Whammy’s House through his laptop, if his laptop had been in his room.

 _There was nothing in his room!_ It was like someone had ripped all of his belongings from their places and stolen them away (probably Misa’s work?). His desk was bare and charred, covered up in hastily splashed paint, which meant they had gone snooping in his secret drawer (though now that he knew the Death Note couldn’t burn, his plan to stop anyone from touching it seemed kind of in vain. It was too bad, he had really worked on building that fake bottom for his desk).

Speaking of Watari, though, what was up with him? Light’s father had contacted him at some point, which meant he _knew_ that the Yagami family thought L was a kidnapper and rapist. Why didn’t he warn them? Was he angry with L? Did he think this was an appropriate penalty for his leaving the position of the World’s Greatest Detective for a month?

What did that mean for his plan?

Light shrugged. Yes, perhaps Watari had withheld the information on purpose, but he would definitely help his adoptive son escape prison, wouldn’t he?

Now, how to get to a phone? Light was nothing if not resourceful, not that he could claim that considering _he had left his wand in his backpack downstairs!_ Goddamn it, and he had his piece of the Death Note stuck to him and everything. Such bullshit.

Forget it. Forget all that magical crap, he would do this the old-fashioned way. Back when he was Kira, during the early days before L knew who he was, he had created an escape plan in case he was ever in trouble while in his room. There were two winter-cracked pipes running down the wall outside his window, and there was a tiny roof above Sayu’s window to keep the rain out. He had to hook one of the pipes (the one he had meddled with beforehand to make sure it was safe and movable), and pull it closer to his own window so that he could climb down to the ledge. From the ledge, it was a six-foot drop into a patch of bushes (it would probably hurt like a bitch but he would survive). And finally, he would run to the nearest payphone and call up Watari.

Good plan, all he had to do was make the hook and a rope to make sure he could climb back up to Sayu’s roof, and he was home free.

He had just been hunting for the stick he kept hidden under his bed for this very purpose when there was a hesitant knock on his door. Quickly, Light stowed the stick back into the dust-bunnies with practiced flair and sat up on the bed. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees to make it look like he was sulking.

Slowly, the lock unlatched (could he just overpower his visitor and run? No, stupid plan, it would only make him look more psychotic) and doorknob turned. His little sister poked her head in, her brown hair loose around her face. “Can I come in, Onii-chan?”

Light rolled his eyes. “Like you need my permission. Where is my laptop? And all of my stuff?”

Sayu grinned cheekily, though her face was still splotchy from all the crying. She stepped smartly inside, leaving the door open behind her. Making a run for it was getting so much more tempting. “I think Otou-san took it all in as evidence right after Misa told him.”

Light frowned. “Why would he need my clock as evidence?”

Sayu’s smile dropped. “No, um. That wasn’t evidence.” She traced a half-circle on the ground with her toes. “Otou-san had a bit of a breakdown after Misa told him what…what that horrible man was doing to you. He also, um, burnt down your desk. I was afraid of him for a few days.”

Light softened, giving her a rueful smile. “Hey, come here.” He patted the bed beside him, and she leapt up eagerly, snuggling into him and locking her arms around his waist. Light was mildly surprised. Sure, Sayu was always affectionate, but this was a little too cuddly even for her. He supposed this was how people acted when they saw their dead brother alive again.

“Onii-chan I missed you so much. I missed you more than I thought I would.” She mumbled into his stomach. Light chuckled.

“Of course you missed me, how would you pass math without me?”

Sayu giggled. “Exactly! I’ve actually not finished today’s homework, you know…”

“Okay then, Sayu, I’ll help you out…on one condition.” Light leaned in conspiratorially, whispering against her long brown tresses. “Get me your cellphone.”

Sayu’s expression of excitement turned impassive as if a switch had been clicked in her brain, reminding him distinctly of the Imperius curse. “I…can’t, Onii-chan. Otou-san told me not to. He told me you’ll…try to call Ryuuzaki’s associates.”

Light cocked his head. “Why would I do that, if he’s done everything you think he has?”

“Because…because he’s manipulating you, Raito.”

Light gave her an impatient look. “How easy to manipulate do you think I am? Do you really think so low of me?”

“No, no…” Sayu grabbed him in a tighter hug. “It’s not like that. Otou-san told us that he’s been hurting you and watching you on camera like a stalker. I looked it up online, there’s this thing called Stockholm Syndrome, where you fall in love with your stalker. I…I think you’re feeling something like that. But it’s not real, Onii-chan. He’s actually a bad person.”

“Sayu…” Light sighed. “That’s ridiculous. This whole thing is ridiculous. Why do you believe _Misa_ over me? She’s an idiot!”

Sayu tilted her head at him, her brown eyes large and perceptive. “And you’re a liar.” She smiled. “You’ve always been a liar. It’s who you are.”

Light pouted. “Look, I only wanted your cellphone to listen to music, alright? It’s been a while since I’ve been free enough to.”

Her eyes twinkled. “Another lie. But if you really want to listen to music, you can borrow my iPod. Mother bought me a lot of presents because she wanted to keep herself distracted. It tells the time too, if that’s your next excuse.”

The brunet glared at her as she drew a slim device out her pocket and dropped it in his hand, earphones and all. “Are you hungry? Mom’s asking if you want to come down to dinner or if we should bring it up to you.”

Light gave her a dismissive look. “I’ll come downstairs. If I’m _allowed_ to.”

“Guess we’ll have to hide all the phones in the house then.” Sayu winked, wriggling up to give Light a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll come up and call you soon, okay? You can listen to my music until then.” She skipped off of his bed and made a beeline towards the door.

“Wait. Sayu…” Light deliberated on how to phrase it. “Ryuuzaki’s a good person. He’s a really nice guy, and you wouldn’t think it looking at his face but he cares. A lot. He only came here with me to make sure I got home safe. He’s not capable of doing the things you think, I swear it. I’m not lying.”

Sayu stopped where she was and waited a whole second to give him a look he could only describe as infuriatingly patronising. “I’m really sorry for everything that has happened to you, Onii-chan.”

And with that, she had shut the door behind her, the latching of the lock loud in his ears.

Light couldn’t hold it in anymore. He grabbed the nearest projectile, a book shoved carelessly under his pillow, and chucked it at the door, yelling furiously. “Fuck you! Fuck all of you! What was the fucking point of acting mature and independent for nineteen years of existence if this is how I’m fucking treated? Assholes!”

He was just about to send the iPod flying behind the book before sanity caught up with him. He untangled the earphones impatiently and stuck them into his ears, scrolling down Sayu’s pathetic playlist and finding one song that could potentially blow a hole in his eardrums and get that rage in his veins flowing somewhere productive.

He yanked the stick back out of its hiding place, bobbing his head to the drums in the background, letting the heavy electric guitar overwhelm his righteous anger. He wasn’t usually a fan of heavy metal, but there were always those days.

Okay, so stick, wooden hook, both stuck together with the superglue he always had tucked away in random hiding places around his room. Superglue was useful for a lot of purposes: physical projects, sneaky weaponry, first aid, preserving snowflakes…

Maybe if he hadn’t been thinking so hard about the usefulness of superglue (or listening to Iron Maiden of all bands), he would have heard the relentless tapping on his bedroom window.

Light began to hum along to the song as he glued the head of the hook to the stick. Perfect, this would be able to shift the pipe along nicely. Now, he had to work on the rope. Without the rope, he wouldn’t be able to climb back up, and _that_ would be suspicious. The last thing he needed was to tip his father off that Watari was going to intervene. It had to be able to hold his weight, he could make it out of his bedsheets like a storybook princess in her tower or find some other material in his ravaged room…

He was just inspecting the sheets when he felt a hand clap over his mouth, its pair snatching his wrists tightly. _Ryuuzaki_ was his first thought, but this didn’t smell like Ryuuzaki. It smelled like singed paper and grass, a familiar scent he couldn’t quite place.

He could feel the person’s hot breath on his cheek as he whispered to Light…but Iron Maiden was drowning him out. He wrenched one of his wrists from his captor’s grasp and ripped the earphones out of his ears. He jerked his head to displace the hand over his mouth and turned on his heel to face the intruder.

Light’s mouth fell open. “Ron?”

The redhead he never thought he would see again grinned cockily at him. “Did I mention how sexy you look in Bill’s jacket?”

Light gaped at him. “H-how are you here? How did you even find me? Are you _tracking_ me?”

Ron glanced wistfully at him with big blue eyes. “It doesn’t count if I wish I was, does it? No, I’m just here to rescue you.” He gestured behind Light to the window, where the brunet saw a huge blue car floating randomly in the air outside of it.

“What the fuck?”

Ron laughed, then slapped his hand over his mouth. “Shit. This is a covert mission. Come on.”

Light tugged his hand out of the redhead’s grasp. “Wait. Wait, where are we going?”

“The Burrow, obviously. Where else could we go?”

“No, no. Listen.” Light bit his lip. “I can’t go. I need…I need a phone, like your sister Ginny’s. Ryuuzaki’s in trouble. L, I mean. L’s in trouble.”

Ron smirked. “We’re one step ahead of you.” He gestured to the car. One of its windows lowered, and out poked a shaggy black mane of hair. “Who do you think called us over to help? He’d managed to Stupefy everyone in his van while handcuffed behind his back, it was pretty cool. Must have taken a long bloody time to wriggle his wand into his hands. He summoned us with his Patronus and ordered us to rescue you from a _‘hideous, abusive household that explains exactly why Kira came into existence_ ’. His words, not mine. Come on, now, we’ve got to hurry.”

Light bit his lip to stop his smile. “Ron, I can’t come with you.”

Ron groaned, exasperated. “Oh, why not? I promise I won’t make you my trophy wife.” The redhead grabbed hold of Light’s arm and just about dragged him towards the open window. “L, _explain_ to him.”

L craned his neck out of the window of the enchanted car, very obviously trying not to look at the ground. “Raito-kun, it’s alright, come on out. I’ve called Watari, he will forward irrefutable evidence of our shared involvement in a case that matches your description. We have our alibi. Come with us and let Watari deal with it. He owes me one.”

Light put his hands on the windowsill as he leaned out. “Look, if I come with you it’ll be blamed on you, not me. They’ll think you kidnapped me again, especially after you, what, _Stupefied_ the entire Task Force and escaped? I don’t want that.”

L narrowed his eyes. “I will not let you stay in this house alone, not with that insane Soichiro Yagami prowling. I will _not_ , Raito, don’t even try arguing. Get in the car.”

“L…” Light grinned. “I’m really glad you care so much, but it’s my _family_. I’ll see you again after Watari’s cleared your name.”

The detective’s eyes lit up in indignation. “Look at your face! Your cheek, it’s swollen! Don’t make me get out there and drag you here, Yagami Raito!”

Light touched his cheek. It did feel hotter than usual, but he was sure the detective was exaggerating. He laughed. “Damn it, L, chill out. My family isn’t going to hurt me, they’re not abusive.”

“Raito, your _father_ is your family and _he_ _hit_ _you_. Don’t give me that bullshit. I do not want to see him or _anybody_ hit you again. I will _not_ let him.”

Light chuckled. “Okay, how about this? If he hits me again, I’ll send you a Patronus and you can come rescue me. Better?”

L looked disgruntled. “You are extremely uncooperative, Raito-kun.”

Light gave him a toothy grin. “Just the way you like me.” He ducked his head as his smile slipped slightly. “I’m…really sorry about this, L. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have let you accompany me.”

“Nonsense.” L snapped. “I can’t imagine how they would have treated you if I hadn’t been there. I’m _glad_ I was there if it meant I absorbed their anger and they hurt you a little less. Amane Misa, on the other hand, is going to get her just desserts very soon.”

Light smiled. “I love you, L.”

L reached out and managed to brush the ends of Light’s auburn hair with his fingertips. “And I you, Raito. Be careful. If he hurts you and you don’t summon me immediately, I’ll kick your arse.”

Light was just about to open his mouth to retort when there was a loud knock on his bedroom door. He widened his eyes. “Get out of here.” He backed away from the window, gesturing for Ron to leave. “Go, my sister can’t see you!”

Ron placed one foot decisively on the windowsill, but suddenly changed his mind and dived towards Light, taking the brunet’s face in his hands. The redhead placed a brief kiss on his lips before Light could think to flinch away.

“I haven’t forgotten. I’ll think of a way to get you back, I promise.” With that, the wizard slid out of the window and scrambled into the car, slamming the door shut. The car flew shakily away from the Yagami household, disappearing somewhere into the clouds.

Light placed one hand on his lips and turned hesitantly towards the doorway, where his sister stood stock-still, her face pale and eyes round as ping-pong balls.

Light grinned. “Don’t tell dad you just saw a flying car outside my window.”

After a full moment’s pause, the brunette nodded. “D-dinner’s ready.”

She just about flew from his door and Light burst into laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next comes the epilogue and it's such a bittersweet feeling. I love this fic so much, and you guys too, you basically renewed my love for writing <3 thank you!
> 
> Also, if you like my work, I've published an original novel on Amazon Kindle called Portraits of Night (link: https://www.amazon.com/Portraits-Night-M-L-Winters/dp/1976717280). 
> 
> I'd really appreciate it if you download the free sample and review my writing! :3 I'm really curious what people think of my original work XD
> 
> Thanks, you guys! Review and comment! :D


	51. Epilogue

_4 Months Later_

L Lawliet wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve his Raito-kun…which was why it was so terrifying when his Raito-kun suddenly decided L didn’t actually deserve him after all.

It had been a long and exhausting case in Germany, the kind of case that would earlier have had the blood pumping in his veins the whole time as he put piece after piece together. The serial killer had been an unassuming postman living in the street corner, L had seen it on the first day, but gathering the proof for that and convincing the bull-headed German police of his guilt had taken _months_. Police of any kind were such a bother, he couldn’t see Light meshing with them at all.

It had probably been his saying something of the kind that had contributed to this current mess. That, and the fact that he had been in Germany for three months (trying to convict a postman of all people and failing!) without any prolonged contact with his boyfriend who was very likely by now to be horribly, horribly bored.

And god _damn_ it all, there were no cameras in L’s new Tokyo apartment so L couldn’t even spy on him to make sure he was alright. He would have to fix that the minute he returned.

“May I suggest calling ahead, Hikari? I do not wish to disturb young Mr. Yagami as he sleeps. It is nearly midnight.” Watari’s voice floated from the front of their vintage rental as the elderly man chauffeured them along. L wasn’t sure why all the cars Watari rented were vintage and expensive, it actively damaged their incognito statuses, but he guessed it was a wish-fulfilment thing. God knew the old man deserved a few allowances.

L crossed his arms sulkily as he chewed on a green gummy bear from the dish Watari had slipped onto the backseat. “I have already tried calling ahead, Watari. He doesn’t pick up.”

Maybe it was because he had forgotten Light’s twentieth birthday in his rush to make up for lost time as L, maybe it was because L hadn’t called in a month now, or maybe it was because he hadn’t responded to Light’s last four texts until a week after he had received them (the last texts he had received from the brunet at all, incidentally). He had been a _terrible_ boyfriend, why did he ever think himself cut out for this? He totally understood if Light had moved out by now, it must have been so damn lonely in that apartment all by himself. Light was used to company, he wasn’t the type to be happy living entirely by himself with nothing to do.

“In that case, he must be asleep. What do you say we check in to a hotel and avoid disturbing him?” Watari sounded exceedingly amused. Well, L hoped he got all the joy he could out of the detective’s pain. At least someone was happy.

L sucked on a pink gummy bear. “It’s my apartment. I don’t see why I cannot go into it whenever I please.” Even _he_ could hear how mopey he sounded, no wonder Watari was getting so entertained.

“As you wish.” The older man clipped as the traffic at the signal moved by a single inch. With a heaving sigh, L stuffed his mouth with gummy bears and opened up his cellphone, his fingers braced to send another text. If only he hadn’t sent fifty in the past four days with a total of zero replies ( _fifty!_ L didn’t send that many to even the officers preparing to enter the _field_ of prime cases).

L scrolled up above some of the more cringe-worthy messages he had sent (what had possessed him to confess his undying love for Raito-kun followed by three sad emoticons?) and reached the last four messages Light had ever sent him.

_Hey Ryuuzaki, I’m sure you’re busy and all so I’ll keep it short: where do you keep your ownership papers for this apartment? The landlord’s fucking insane, telling me someone else rented the place for the night._

_Ryuuzaki, when I tell you he’s fucking insane, I am not kidding. Respond as soon as you see this._

_Do you want me to live out on the streets? Because if I’m kicked out of this hellhole I’m renting my own place, and good luck getting me back once I’ve struck out on my own._

_Never mind, I handled it. Pays to be hot I guess._

They gave him goosebumps every time. What had Light _done_ to handle it? Had he _prostituted_ himself? L had, once he read those messages four days ago, looked up the landlord of the apartment and found that he was actually a young man, Mikami Teru, about twenty-seven or so, and looked about passable on any scale of attractiveness (which was a lot higher than L was).

And, of course, the landlord didn’t pick up his phone either. What did that mean? What did any of this mean? What had L done to the only relationship that meant anything to him?

L curled up in his seat and crunched on a candy-cane, glaring at himself in the rear-view mirror. “Can’t you go faster, Watari?”

Watari raised his eyebrows. “You can see the traffic for yourself.”

L grumbled. “Why the bloody hell is there traffic at midnight?”

“Never seen it before in my life.” Watari smiled. “Perhaps it is there especially for you.”

L let out an extended groan that could compete with the sulky protagonist of an American chick-flick and popped the rest of his candy-cane in his mouth whole. Watari let out the most frustrating of his array of old-English-butler chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll open up the ice-cream the minute we get there. I’m pretty sure I packed fudge sauce.”

L bit his thumb and looked away, muttering under his breath. “But _I don’t_ _want_ fudge sauce, Watari. I want my Raito-kun.”

He didn’t know how Watari could possibly have heard that, but somehow it elicited another of those chuckles that made him want to shred his face into ribbons.

“Watari! The traffic moved an inch! _Go go go go go go!”_

* * *

The lucky thing about being L was that he had it confirmed, despite Light not answering any of his calls, that the boy was very much alive. He was still enrolled in To-oh, still topping his supplementary and main exams, and had even applied to complete his degree two years early, an application that had been approved by his Dean only yesterday (maybe he would be more forgiving if L turned up with good news! Maybe he had a chance after all!)

And no, despite his threats, Light had not rented a different place for himself (at least, not under his own name). This did not rule his moving out to go back to living in his family home…although if he had done that, L wouldn’t give a shit how the brunet felt about him. He would march in there and drag him out by the ear.

L knew Light was unhappy to a degree with or without the detective’s presence. Magic had increased his already too high expectations of life, and returning to an ordinary muggle existence had not been smooth sailing. Light would never say it, especially with how hard he worked at excelling in all of his muggle pursuits, but he missed everything about the magic world: the power, the friendships he had created and the knowledge that came with it. L knew Light kept his stolen black wand under his pillow and fiddled with the wristlet holding his piece of the Note to his skin so often L wondered if it was becoming a nervous tic. He was _bored_ , the problem that had caused Kira to spring into existence, and it was one more reason L had to _hurry_. He had to fix this before Light did something drastic.

When the vintage rental finally zipped into the basement of the apartment and backed neatly into the space reserved for the penthouse, L just about sprinted out of the car before Watari caught him by the back of his shirt from around his seat. “Hikari. _Cameras.”_

L crossed his arms, jiggling his leg impatiently. “Well, hurry up, then.”

Watari shot him a disdainful look, tapping into the device in his hands and waiting five seconds to give L the go-ahead. The detective bounced off of his seat, running barefoot down the length of the parking lot. He dived into the elevator and only just waited for Watari to step carefully inside to start spamming the placebo button that stated that it would close the doors faster.

The elevator began to move up twenty-three floors to the luxury penthouse he had bought on a whim (to counter the apartment belonging to Amane Misa, which L had gotten an eyeful of when he had visited to threaten and blackmail her (quite successfully, with Light’s assistance) into giving up ownership of her notebook). L vibrated with nervous energy the whole time, much to Watari’s displeasure. “Hikari, please stop moving so much. I knew I should not have given you that extra candy cane.”

L shot him a dirty look. “If you hadn’t given me that candy cane, I would have run all the way here on my own, let the cameras go to hell.”

Watari seemed resigned to his fate. “How is it you have grown more childish since returning from your mysterious elopement with young Mr. Yagami? I would have thought a month living on your own would have taught you something.”

“It taught me several things, Watari. Patience, though, was not one of them. _There!”_ L bolted out of the elevator onto the penthouse floor and stopped dead in front of a willowy young woman in a tight green tube top and the shiniest black hair in Tokyo. She was shocked at the sight of him, glancing back at the only door on that floor, then back at him and Watari, who had finally sauntered out of the elevator. Quick as lightning, the girl sidestepped around the old inventor and took his place in the lift, jamming the placebo button and actually being rewarded, the doors of the elevator sliding shut quicker than usual.

Watari chuckled. “Mr. Yagami does attract the best kind of company, doesn’t he?”

L gaped at his assistant. “It’s one-thirty in the morning!”

Watari sobered up. “Oh, I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for this. The boy is smitten with you, he would not do what you are thinking.”

L did not reply, marching smartly towards the door of his penthouse, the tile floor freezing against his bare feet. He tested the handle (locked, strange. If the girl just left, had Light locked it right behind her? That would mean he was still in the living room). Quickly, he unlocked the door and swung it open, ready to point and yell triumphantly at his adulterous boyfriend…but the room was empty.

“Raito-kun?” He called, confused, but there was no response.

Did that mean the girl had her own key? That was dangerous! It had the capacity to compromise L’s identity! Surely Light wasn’t as careless as that?

“Raito! Get out here!” Anger began to seep into his voice, but the only thing that answered him was the faint sound of a screeching violin from somewhere downstairs (who the fuck played the violin at one-thirty in the morning? And L thought _he_ was an insomniac).

“Keep it down. It is the middle of the night.” Watari warned him as he brought their luggage into the main room and dumped it beside the sleek black couch Light had picked out when they were first deciding on the apartment. “Do you want your ice-cream now or after you deal with Mr. Yagami?”

L stuck out his lip sulkily. “Now, please. With extra fudge sauce.”

Watari patted his shoulder affectionately. “Don’t worry so much, Hikari.”

L stamped forward and was rewarded by the crinkling of a pile of paper thrown carelessly around the front door as if they had been slipped in from outside. What could they possibly be? Mail? Love letters?

As luck would have it, they were both.

“ _Merde_. Raito-kun! Raito-kun, have you seen this? _Raito!”_

The apartment was so silent, apart from the clattering in the kitchen and now smoother whine of the violin downstairs. Soon enough, the letters were just about forgotten, left on the dining table as L hunted the three rooms of the house he shared with his boyfriend, getting more and more frantic by the second.

“Raito-kun, are you even _here?”_

The worst part was, the house looked so lived-in. He saw a pile of dishes freshly washed on the rack beside the sink. One of Light’s suit jackets was hung on the shower rod. The fridge was full of take-out, and the bed was rumpled and seemed to have been slept in recently. Light’s college textbooks lay around the bed, as if he had been reading them before falling asleep. It wasn’t like him to be so messy, he usually kept his books away the very minute he was done with them.

_Who had that woman been?_ The love letter, it had indicated that Light had been rejecting her advances for quite a while now. And the mail…if Light had seen the mail, he would never have ignored it, much less let it lie on the floor.

The woman hadn’t been able to get inside the house, L was sure of it. She had probably come in to slip her love-letter under the door and get the fuck out of there. L wished he could feel the relief he had hoped for, but his stomach was in nervous knots.

If the woman hadn’t been in the house and the bedroom was a mess, the front door locked and Light’s bed empty with the sheets thrown back…

“Raito, where are you?” L whispered as he dialled Light’s number, holding it against his ear and waiting for it to ring. There was a sudden buzzing from the bedside table, and Light’s phone lit up there, still attached to the charger at 100%.

L’s heart pounded in his chest. He had enemies, so many enemies, and L had hardly thought the Tokyo apartment needed all that much security, considering it was recently bought and under his newest alias (Hikari Tsuki), a name that, unlike _Ryuuzaki_ , had nothing to do with his previous cases…

BB would have made the connection, though. BB could have _he didn’t want to think it_ BB could have done anything, he could have hurt his Raito-kun…he could have…

L screamed. “Watari! _Watari!_ Drop everything right now and hack into the CCTV of the apartments! _Now!_ _Watari!”_

The old gentleman appeared in the doorway of Light’s bedroom, frowning, a cup of ice-cream still in hand. “Right away, Hikari. What should I search for?”

L realised he was trembling as he clasped his hands together. “Search for L-Light. Please, quickly.”

Watari looked doubtful. “You think he left the apartment?”

L bit hard into his thumbnail, drawing blood but unable to give a single fuck about it. “Damn it, just do it! Now! Or do I have to do it myself?” He chewed at his thumb as he made to brush past the old man, tasting the metallic tang of blood on his tongue, but was stopped by a single firm hand on his shoulder.

“Calm down now. Think for a minute.” The motto of Whammy’s House. _The motto of fucking Whammy’s House._ L felt ready to slap his adoptive guardian upside the head.

“ _Merde_ , this isn’t the bloody time! Goddamn it, Raito is gone somewhere and he obviously didn’t plan to go! Look around you! I need to find him, Watari!”

Watari sighed. “Hikari. _Listen_. If Light has left the house, who on Earth is playing the violin?”

L paused. Watari was right...the faint, distinct song of the violin was indeed louder in this room than anywhere else. L approached Raito’s bedroom window, hesitantly placing his ear to the glass. His heart fluttered in his chest and the detective slid the window open, sticking his head out into the cool night air.

He almost cried with relief. His Raito-kun was sitting on the ledge outside the window in his silken shirt and jeans, his legs dangling into the long drop down, holding L’s own ebony violin under his chin. He appeared to have a laptop open beside him, the screen facing away from L. The brunet was referring to something on it, scrolling down several miles before getting to a point he wanted and adjusting the bow over the strings, dragging it down, creating a sound that wasn’t actually half-bad for someone who had never played an instrument before. Light closed his eyes and took a breath, his legs tucked back under the ledge as he centred himself. He adjusted the position of the bow once more, re-referred to the page open on the laptop and yanked the bow in a complicated move that L could only just follow from his position. The tune he was creating was quite lovely, though L couldn’t possibly have placed it if he tried. It sounded like nothing he had ever heard before, jutting and slowing at places that seemed pleasantly random.

The brunet rolled his eyes, scowling as he lowered the violin and massaged his upper arm, tossing L’s expensive bow aside. He leaned back against the building, hands behind his head. The banners and advertisements of the buildings around them washed him in bright colours, turning his rusty-brown hair darker and filling his caramel eyes with stars. He bit down on his lip and released it, making it blush a shade of pink that made L want to just abandon all stealth and dive at him, gather him in his arms. It had been so long, three months without touching his Raito-kun, without hearing him speak in person, without feeling his breath over his face or running his fingers through his silky hair.

Suddenly, the boy’s head snapped towards him and the detective slipped inside as quickly as he could, rushing to hide under Light’s bed. He heard Light scrambling to make his way inside. “Who the fuck was that? Mikami, if that’s you, I’m going to _fucking_ _murder_ _you_. I’ll file a restraining order, I swear to God!” Light shot out in Japanese, his bare feet hitting the bedroom carpet running. L could just barely see him duck beside the bed somewhere near L’s ankles (before he hastily drew them away), yanking out a long metal pipe. L’s mouth dropped open as Light sped out of the room. _Oh, shit, Watari!_

L shimmied out from his hiding place and scurried out of the room, close on his lover’s heels but still unwilling to give up his presence. He ducked behind the curtains of the living room as the brunet prowled the place, amber eyes roving the room suspiciously, stopping on the brightly lit kitchen.

L guessed it had been lucky that Light had left the kitchen light on himself, because it did not give up his presence to the younger man. Watari’s sudden reappearance holding two bowls of ice-cream topped with hot fudge, however, was a different story.

Light dropped his pipe with a clang on the floor, his face slowly turning red. “Watari! Hi! You didn’t tell me you were coming.” He eyed the two ice-cream bowls but was too polite to bring it up directly. “Is this not just a supply visit?”

Watari placed both bowls down on the dining table and remained standing. “I did try to call you, but you weren’t picking up. I do hope I didn’t startle you.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve just been a little on edge lately. Some guy’s been stealing my stuff.” Light smiled sheepishly, slipping gracefully onto one of the chairs. “What is the visit for, then?”

Watari frowned at him. “Has someone been breaking into the house? If so, we must secure it.”

Light waved it away. “No, it was the landlord. He had an extra set of keys because he thought the house was a rental, I cleared it with him and took his keys yesterday. He was just a little…overenthusiastic around me, so I was a little worried. I was outside, you see, I couldn’t hear you come in.”

Watari picked up the spoon he had stuck into the bowl closer to himself and scooped out a bite. “Yes, I noticed that. You play beautifully, Light.”

“Thanks. I’ve been wanting to try my hand ever since I went through Ryuuzaki’s stuff. Not much else to do around here.”  To L’s horror, Light picked up the other bowl and cradled it in one hand as he scraped out some ice-cream and dipped it in a pool of chocolate fudge before slurping it up. Watari watched him with a blatantly entertained expression, his eyes darting discreetly every now and then to the curtains where he had seen L duck in.

“Tell me more about this landlord, Light. I am not sure I like the sound of him.”

Light shrugged, taking another heartbreaking bite, this one bigger than the last and sopping up more of the fudge. “He’s no security hazard, don’t worry. I’m a bit too paranoid. He’s just been harassing me a bit ever since I flirted with his cousin…though in my defence, it was to get her to convince him to return the apartment keys to me. He stole some of my clothes and my phone charger to force me to drop in on them.” The brunet sneered. “Joke’s on him, I barely use my phone anyway. His cousin gave me back my stuff this evening, so I’m hoping it’s all over at this point.”

“That’s good. I’ll check up on him anyway, make sure he doesn’t try breaking in or harassing you again. I suspect it was his cousin who left you a love-letter fifteen minutes ago. I left it on the table.” Watari said, polishing off the rest of his ice-cream and getting up to rinse out the bowl. Light followed him, leaning back against the wall as he dug out every drop of fudge from L’s dessert, spearing even the chopped strawberries Watari had placed on top of the delicacy.

“So, Watari.” Light started casually, running his spoon down the last scattering of strawberries. L’s heart stopped as Light’s amber eyes darted purposefully to the curtains, a smirk flashing as he met the detective’s gaze. “What is the visit for?” Languidly and deliberately, he picked up the last of the strawberries, still painted with the final remains of the fudge, and stuck the spoon in his mouth.

Watari burst out with the undiluted force his old-English-butler chuckle.

L glowered at the pair of them as he slumped out of his hiding place. “You ate my dessert!”

Light’s smirk grew into a wide, genuine smile that made him feel warmer inside than a freshly baked candy apple. “Yeah, well, you abandoned me for months on a case I solved in ten minutes.”

“That isn’t my fault! I bet you would have taken longer to prove it than I did. And how the fuck are you accessing my case files, Raito?”

“Secret.” Light winked, scooping out another spoonful of ice-cream. “And no, I wouldn’t have, I would have arrested him on the first day and tortured a confession out of him.”

L rushed over and snatched  his cup from Light. “You can’t just torture someone like that, their confession wouldn’t even be admissible in court. Besides, I didn’t have anything to charge him on, how could I just arrest him?”

Light wrapped his arms around L, ruffling his black hair. “Fine, I’d write his name in the Death Note followed by the words ‘confesses before he dies.’”

“Raito-kun…”

“I’m kidding, jeez. I’d use an Imperio.”

L narrowed his eyes. “You know, I don’t think I should show you what we got in the mail. You’re proving to be dangerous enough without it.”

Light cocked his head. “Mail? If you’re referring to that love-letter Watari mentioned, you’re being really weird, Ryuuzaki.”

“Ah, yes. The love-letter. I’d almost forgotten. You had better have a very good explanation for that, Raito-kun.”

“Oh, no! My affair has been revealed! Now my boyfriend will subject me to righteous indignation! Whatever shall I do?”

L sniffed. “You know, I may be ‘righteously indignant’ whether or not you have an explanation, Raito-kun. You left my priceless violin, a gift from my beloved guardian Watari on my seventeenth birthday, out on a _ledge_.”

Light stiffened. “…Shit. You’re right. And my laptop’s there too! Oh my fucking shit, I’ll be right back.” He pushed off of L and dashed out of the room.

Watari chuckled merrily. “I do enjoy seeing you this way, Hikari.”

L smiled at his assistant, feeling content after a dry period of _three months_. _Ninety days._ How did he survive _ninety days?_ It was unthinkable, how had he even boarded the plane away from here? (Oh, yes, he remembered boarding the plane, telling Light it would take no more than a week as Watari prepped the engines). He sat at the table, pulling his legs up on the chair. He placed his half-finished cup of ice-cream on his knee as he picked up the letter that had floated in with the mail. Creamy paper, thick stock, the lettering done in rich black ink with an insignia letterhead and gothic calligraphic font that put his own symbol to shame (no, not really. His L symbol was perfection).

“Who is that letter from, L?” Watari asked, chugging a bottle of vitamin water he had grabbed from Raito’s stash beside the fridge. L pursed his lips as he read through the letter, picking out every piece of jargon and making sure it could be interpreted only one way. The last thing he needed was to disappoint Raito-kun further with this topic, he was already so edgy about it…

“It is a proposition.”

Watari frowned. “A proposition? From who?”

“From a certain Ronald Weasley.” L laughed. “Come out, Raito-kun, I know you’re listening.”

Light sauntered out of his bedroom, one hand adjusting his rusty wind-tousled hair. “Ron sent something?” His smile was sheepish and hopeful at the same time, it made L’s heart swell.

L nestled further into his posture. “So says the note he scribbled on the top of the page like a bloody toddler.” He held the letter out to the teenager, who snatched it up eagerly. “Be careful with this, Raito-kun. We will only do this if you trust Weasley completely.”

He watched as Light’s chestnut eyes grew larger and larger, his face completely impassive as he absorbed every detail. After what felt like a millennium and a millisecond, he looked back at L with those ping-pong-ball eyes and L wanted nothing more than to wrap his lover in his embrace and never let go.

“T-they can’t be serious…”

L tried his level-best to suppress his smile. “Ronald Weasley sure is. _Finally found you your way! Thank me at the Burrow!_ What a child.”

Light held the letter away from him. “I can’t believe this…” He broke and the grin took over the entirety of his face.

L swallowed a huge spoon of vanilla ice-cream. “Due to the poor educational quality, lack of examinations and disturbances conducted at the Hogwarts School during this past year, all Hogwarts students have been advised to repeat a year, and seventh years graduating from Hogwarts have been offered the first-ever Eighth Year of Hogwarts. This letter hereby invites Light Yagami (and Rue Ryuuzaki) to join the Eighth Year if he/she wishes to continue their education. Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts.” The detective recited from memory, revelling in Light’s glowing face. “The supplies are on the back page, if you want to use my money to buy them you should probably ask first.”

Light blinked, his smile fading slightly. “What do you mean ‘you’? You’re not coming?”

“They added my name as an afterthought, Raito, and misspelled at that. I have my pride. This is so obviously _Ron Weasley’s_ proposition.”

Light stared at the pale man crouching on the chair with a wooden face. After a few seconds, though, the expression turned dismissive and he walked over to the other side of the room to put the letter under one of his neatly arranged paperweights. “Oh, you’re coming. Don’t even try.”

L gave him an incredulous look. “I have my cases, Raito, and my job! I can’t exactly drop everything and frolic around again.”

Light raised his eyebrows. “You have an orphanage full of successors, internet access and Watari. You’re coming with me, Ryuuzaki, there’s no question of it.”

L hid his smile with his ice-cream. “Why, that’s awfully presumptuous of you, Raito-kun.”

Light turned on his heel, unable to resist, and lowered himself down beside L’s crouched body, his hip touching the detective’s toes. He leaned in close, his chestnut eyes bright and deep enough to fall headlong into, and his soft lips brushed the shell of L’s ear. “Fine, _L_ , have it your way. Don’t come.” He whispered in his deepest, most seductive voice, and suddenly he was gone, a cloud of his lemony scent left in his place. L blinked, then scowled.

“ _Mon dieu_ , Raito-kun, you’re supposed to kiss me and force me to agree! Have I taught you nothing? What is this passive-aggressive bullshit?”

Watari flinched beside them. “Should I even ask, Hikari?”

L rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing, Watari. Just know that from September 1st, I’ll be operating from an unknown location. Have Mello, Near and Matt do my field work.”

“As long as cases proceed as usual, I have no issues with that. Does this mean I might get a year of retirement, then?” Watari seemed almost hopeful, which was actually highly offensive now that L thought about it.

“No, Watari, of course not. You’ll be in charge of Mello.”

The old inventor sighed. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a sulking Raito-kun to tend to.” L hopped off his chair, discarding the empty bowl in front of the long-suffering Watari and skulking over to the brunet’s bedroom.

“Aw, come on, Raito-kun! Don’t _hide_. It was hard enough to find you the first time!”

Watari chuckled as he picked up the bowl and took it to the sink to rinse out. Before the Kira case, he would never have guessed that he would hear his ward screech as loudly as that, see him lunge around like an actual twenty-five year old, or listen to him speak with near-tangible affection in his voice.

But that was before the Kira case.

The inventor smiled as he placed the bowl beside the others on the rack, listening to the sounds of the World’s Greatest Detective bickering with his lover as if they were the only two people in the world.

Yes, it did seem that, for L at least, all was well.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sad, isn't it? It's almost time to say farewell." (I've always wanted to use this quote somewhere!!!)
> 
> 3 months (and 5 days). It's the second-longest commitment I've ever had in my life, and it's finally over!
> 
> Thank you all so much! You're the best readers ever, and your reviews never failed to brighten up my day. I feel like a writer again, and it's spectacular.
> 
> There are so many things I wanted to say in this last note, considering this story was a HUGE part of my life for so long, but now that I'm writing it I have no clue. Whatever it is, I'm so damn happy with it. I'm pretty sure fanfiction rescued me, all my classmates are rotting away in boredom while I write away to happiness :D and it's all thanks to you!
> 
> Check out my other Lawlight works, if you want, and I'll eventually write enough chapters of the sequel to post it, but really, I'm just glad you finished this XD
> 
> Review and comment (for the last time)! :D


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